Finding Myself In You Read online

  I ease the door open – keeping my head down – as I make my way to the nearest available seat. I pull my book out and begin flipping through the pages, praying the whole time that Mr. Johnson doesn’t call me out.

  I breathe a sigh of relief, when the hour finally comes to an end. Shew that was a close one. I’m only a couple of feet away from the door, when I hear Mr. Johnson.

  “Ms. Thompson, may I have a word with you?”

  Ah crap! “Sure,” I squeeze the strap on my bag and make my way over to him.

  He takes his glasses off and sits them on the corner of his desk. He begins massaging the bridge of his nose, leaning back in his chair. He inhales deeply through his nose and looks up at me. “I believe it would be in your best interest to drop my class. You and I both know that if you don’t, you’re going to fail it. This is not the kind of class that you can just show up, take the tests, and pass. You have to come to every class. Class participation counts for fifteen percent of the final grade.”

  I begin shaking my head back and forth. I have to pass this class. “I’m sorry. I over slept.” I blurt out, for lack of a better excuse.

  He arches both of his brows at me. “Taylor, you haven’t been on time once, in the past six weeks. I’m not a fool”

  “I know you’re not. I have to pass this class, please. Can’t I do a paper, or something for extra credit? I’ll do anything. Please help me.” I’m desperate.

  He exhales a deep breath and closes his eyes for several seconds. When he reopens them, he grabs a pen and a piece of paper off of his desk. “I don’t allow my students to do papers for extra credit.” He scribbles something down on the paper. “But, I will recommend a tutor.” He slides the paper across the desk to me. “He’s the best. He was my assistant a couple of years ago. If anyone can help you to pass this class, it’s him. If you’re serious about passing my class, I suggest you give him a call.”

  I eagerly pick up the paper. “I will. Thank you.” I spin around and speed walk to the door, before he can change his mind.

  When I’m out in the hall I look down at the name on the paper: Matthew Hansford.

  I’ve never had to have a tutor before. In high school I was an honor student. I’ve let everything go to hell, since I started sneaking around with Ryan. I put him above everything else in my life. Well, I’m done with that, and him. He doesn’t give a shit about me, anyway. It’s time I started buckling down and focus on my education. I’m done with guys.

  CHAPTER 6

  MATT

  It’s been over a week since I kicked Cooper out. I haven’t heard from him or Crystal, since I called them from the bar. Oh well, as much as it hurts right now, I know I’m better off without them in my life.

  I stare down at the stack of bills on the table. This really sucks. Even though it’s my name on the lease, Cooper paid for half of everything. It allowed me to drop some of my hours at work, and concentrate on my studies. Now, I’m going to have to see if I can pick my hours back up, if not, I’ll have to get a second job. I’m sure as hell not going to ask my old man for anything.

  There goes my GPA. I scrub my hand down my jaw. I feel like I’m being punished for something I didn’t even do.

  I’m distracted from my thoughts by my phone. I pick it up and stare down at it. I don’t recognize the number. I start to send it to voicemail, but for some bizarre reason, I answer it.

  “Yeah…”

  “Um- is this Matthew? Um…Matthew Hansford?” Her voice is hesitant and unsure.

  “Yeah, who is this?”

  “My name is Taylor. Mr. Johnson said that you could help me pass his class.”

  I pull out a chair and sit down. I was Mr. Johnson’s assistant my sophomore year. I’ve tutored several of his students since then. But I haven’t done it in several months, but hell, I need the extra money.

  “It won’t be cheap.” I tell her.

  I hear her sigh with relief. “I don’t care how much it costs. I’m desperate. I cannot fail his class.”

  I get up and cross the room. I grab a pencil and a piece of paper. “What’s your number?” I write it down, so that I can program it into my phone.

  “Okay Taylor, I’ll give you a call later this week.” I need to check with my boss, and see what my hours are going to be.

  “Um okay, that sounds good.”

  I hit end and program her name and number into my phone. Tutoring is not my favorite thing, but maybe it can keep me occupied, so that I’m not constantly thinking about Crystal.

  I walk over to Cooper’s old bedroom and look around. Everything looks so stark and empty. Maybe I should try to find a new roommate. It would definitely help me out financially. I quickly shake my head, clearing it of that thought. The last thing I need right now is another roommate. I’d rather work ten jobs. The way my luck is going, they’d probably kill me in my sleep.

  I drag my hands through my hair and tip my head back against the wall. The silence is deafening. My pulse begins racing, as I think about what Crystal did. God Damnit! I can’t stop picturing her in my head. It feels like she ripped a hole in my chest and poured a pound of salt into the raw wound.

  I desperately want to turn off my thoughts and emotions. There’s only one way that I know how to do that. I turn around, walk back into the kitchen, and grab a bottle of Jim Bean. I unscrew the lid and turn the bottle up to my mouth. I swallow a large amount and close my eyes, as the burn races down my throat. Fucking Crystal! She’s turned me into a fucking alcoholic. I lean my head back against the wall.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever get over her, but I do know one thing, the liquor helps numb the pain.

  My phone buzzing drags me out of my alcohol induced sleep. I glance down at it, as my head pounds. Aww fuck! It’s my Dad. He’s the last person I want to talk to. I reluctantly answer it - knowing good and well - if I don’t he’ll just keep on calling.

  “What?” I’m lying on my stomach, with my face pressed into the pillow. It makes my voice muffled.

  “Where in the fuck are you? You sound like you’re in a God Damn barrel.” He says in his deep booming voice, making my head pound even more.

  “I’m in bed.” I grumble, rolling onto my back.

  “It’s four o’clock in the afternoon. Why are you still in the bed?”

  I roll my eyes. It’s really none of his fucking business what I’m doing, or why. “What do you want?” I don’t even try to hide the bitterness in my voice.

  “You know what I want. Are you coming to the rehearsal dinner, or not?” He asks exasperatedly.

  Oh yeah, that’s right. With everything that’s happened, I’ve completely forgotten about that. My Dad is getting married in a few months. It makes me sick to my stomach. She’s only a couple of years older than I am. They deserve each other. She’s obviously using him for his money, and all he’s after is a piece of ass, that he can show off to all his friends.

  I roll my head back and forth on my pillow. “No. I won’t be there.”

  I can hear his rough breathing through the phone. “I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but you better get your head out of your ass, and you better be there.” Without another word he hangs up on me.

  I drop the phone onto the floor. I don’t know why it’s so important to him, that I’m there. It’s not like he gives a damn about me. Hell, he’s hardly spoken to me in the past ten years. Fuck him! I’m not going.

  CHAPTER 7

  TAYLOR

  “So, tell me again. Why are you getting fixed up to go meet your tutor?” Amanda asks.

  I’m standing in front of my mirror, putting on eyeliner. I look up at Amanda. She’s lying on her bed, with her head propped up on her hand, flipping through the pages of a magazine.

  “I all ready told you. I want to make a good first impression.” I pick up my hairbrush and begin brushing my hair. I don’t like going anywhere, without looking my best. You never know who you might run into. I twist my hair into a neat bun and secure it at
the back of my head. I smooth my hand down the front of my pale pink sundress, and turn to face Amanda. “How do I look?”

  She cocks her head to the side and studies me for several seconds. “You look great. I just don’t understand why you’re trying so hard. What is this guy’s name, again?” She scrunches her nose up.

  I glance down at the piece of paper on my desk. “It’s Matthew.” I tell her.

  She shakes her head back and forth. “That name is horrible. He sounds like a total geek.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “This isn’t a date, Amanda. He is just tutoring me.” Why is she making such a big deal out of this?

  She arches a brow at me and gets off of the bed. “Well, you could have fooled me - with the way it’s taken you all morning to get ready. What would Ryan think? If he saw you looking like that, going to meet another guy?”

  “Ryan isn’t the jealous type.” Ryan isn’t the type that cares about anything, or anyone. I’ve figured that one out the hard way. I haven’t told her about my plan to stay away from Ryan. If I break-down and sleep with him again, she’d never let me hear the end of it. And let’s face it - if I run into him - I seriously doubt I’ll be able to resist him. That’s why I’m planning on staying as far away from the frat house as possible. I know it isn’t the best plan, but hey, it’s all I’ve got.

  “Wish me luck.” I grab my book, slip it into my bag, and give her a quick hug.

  “Good luck. Where are you meeting him at?” She asks, as I open the door.

  “At the library,” I glance down at my watch. Ah Crap! If I don’t get my ass in gear, I’m going to be late. That will not be a good first impression. I’m sure Mr. Johnson has informed him all about my bad habits.

  I’m completely out of breath when I walk into the library. I take several deep breaths and try to compose myself.

  After I’ve got my breathing under control, I begin looking around the room. There are several tables, sitting around the massive room. It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. I know this sounds sad, but this is the first time I’ve stepped foot in this library. I do all of my research on my laptop.

  The room is empty, with the exception of one guy sitting at a table, in the back of the room. His hair is a little longer, hanging down on his forehead. He’s dressed in a striped button-up shirt and jeans. He’s wearing glasses and has his head dipped down, reading a book. That must be him. He’s exactly what I was expecting. Wow, Amanda had it right! He does look like a geek.

  I quietly make my way over to him. “Hey,” I hold my hand out to him. “You must be Matthew. I’m Taylor.” I give him my best mega-watt smile. It gets guys every time.

  He lifts his head and his eyes sweep over me from head to toe. This isn’t surprising. I don’t want to sound conceded, but I’ve been blessed with a very curvaceous figure. I’m used to being checked out by guys. It happens all of the time.

  Within seconds his face transforms into a scowl. He slams his book shut, with a loud snap. I’m definitely not used to this reaction from guys. What is his problem? I quickly drop my arm down by my side, gaping at him.

  He pushes his chair back roughly, scraping the legs across the old tiled floor, and stands up. He’s way taller than I originally thought, and he towers over me. I take a large step away from him, feeling a little intimidated by his demeanor.

  My smile falls and I feel myself frowning. “I guess I’m not what you were expecting?” My voice has a slight tremble to it. What is going on with this guy?

  He shakes his head back and forth. “Nope, you’re exactly what I was expecting. I’m not doing this.” He says bitterly, stepping around me. “It isn’t worth it.” He mutters under his breath.

  What? The? Fuck? Before I even realize what I’m doing, I reach out and grab his arm. “Hey, where are you going?”

  He spins around and glares down at my hand - that is still on his arm. I quickly pull back, and blink up at him.

  “I’m not tutoring you. You can find someone else.” What? No! No! No! He has to. Failure is not an option for me.

  He turns again and begins stalking across the library.

  I scurry after him. “Hey, wait.” I somehow manage to get in front of him and block the door. He must think I’m a complete lunatic, but I can’t help myself. “Why won’t you tutor me? What did I do to you?” I don’t care how scary the guy was. He is going to tutor me.

  He runs his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. It looks like he’s barely maintaining his temper. “Look, it’s nothing personal. I just can’t do this. I’ll let Mr. Johnson know, and he can recommend someone else.”

  I begin shaking my head frantically. “No. No way. He said that you were the best.” My chest is heaving with my labored breathing. “I cannot fail this class. I want you to tutor me.”

  He sighs loudly. “I’m sorry, but that isn’t going to happen.” He reaches around me and grabs the door handle.

  In a last minute act of total desperation, I blink my eyes several times, whipping up a few tears. I know this is a terrible thing to do, but damnit - desperate times call for desperate measures. In my experience, most guys cannot take a girl crying. So, here goes.

  “Please,” I make sure to put a slight tremble into my voice, for maximum effect.

  He blinks down at me and scrubs his hand down his jaw. “Please don’t do that. You don’t understand. There are plenty of other tutors out there.” His voice has softened considerably. It’s working!

  I stick out my bottom lip. “None will be as good as you. Please say you’ll help me.” I bat my eyes several times, so that a few tears run down my cheeks.

  He hangs his head and inhales sharply through his nose. After several seconds, he looks up at me and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ll tutor you, but only for this semester. If you still need help after that, you’ll have to find someone else.”

  I bop my head up and down several times. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” I quickly wipe the tears away and step around him. When he doesn’t follow me, I stop and turn to face him. “Are you coming?”

  His lips part and he narrows his eyes at me. “Did you just play me?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I’m sorry. But, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”

  “Unbelievable,” he shakes his head from side to side, looking completely bewildered.

  CHAPTER 8

  MATT

  I feel really shitty for the way that I reacted to Taylor. She must think I’m a total asshole. Judging by the look on her face, she was obviously scared of me. I’m the last person anyone needs to be frightened of.

  When I spoke to her on the phone the other day, I figured she was younger and attractive. I thought that I could handle it. But God Damnit, when I looked up and actually seen her – she reminded me so much of Crystal – all of these memories came flooding back.

  It’s not that she looked like Crystal, but she reminded me of her. The way that she was dressed, not a single hair out of place, even her make-up had been applied with exact precision. I felt like I was going to explode.

  I tried to leave, so that I could go home and shut off my thoughts, but then she grabbed my arm. The look of sheer determination in her eyes - showed me how desperate she must have been. I have to admit, the girl has guts. She’d chased me all the way across the library. She even went so far as to cry. I cannot stand it when a girl cries.

  Taylor knows exactly what buttons to push. I crumbled and agreed to tutor her for this semester. Now, I’m all ready regretting it. The money will help out a lot, but I’m not so sure that it will be worth losing my sanity. I’m barely hanging on by a thread, as it is. This is going to be the longest semester ever.

  This is my senior year. I should be enjoying every second of it, but I just want this year to be over with. All of the plans I’d made with Crystal are now null and void. I have to rearrange everything.

  I grab my keys and head for the door. I have got to get out o
f this silent, empty house – now. I feel like I’m smothering. I need noise, chaos, and a lot of alcohol.

  I finally feel like I can breathe, when I sit down at the bar.

  “Hey Matt, you want the usual?” The bartender asks me. Yeah, I’ve been hanging out here a lot over the past couple of weeks. I’ve gone from not much of a drinker, to needing the shit to survive. It’s my life-line, and I’m holding on for dear life.

  “Yeah, thanks Bill.” I latch onto the shot and throw it back, relishing in the burn. I close my eyes and inhale through my nose, as I start to relax for the first time today.

  “Hey baby, are you looking for a date?”

  I open my eyes and look at the woman sliding into the seat next to mine. She’s older and I can see track marks running up the length of her arms.

  I quickly shake my head, as I pick up my second shot. “Nope,” I tell her and throw my head back, draining my glass. I’m sure most men that have been fucked over would screw as many women as possible, for revenge. But, I’m not one of those guys. I never have been. I’m a good guy. Unfortunately, the only thing that has gotten me is a gaping hole in my chest. Well, at least that’s what it feels like.

  The lady leans over so that her chest is brushing up against my shoulder. I nearly choke on the smell of cigarette smoke. “Oh, come on honey. I can make you feel like a new man, if you just let me.”

  I rub the back of my neck roughly, and lean away from her. “No thanks.” I climb off of the stool, throw Bill a head nod, and head towards the exit. It’s time to go home.

  As I reach my truck I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around expecting to see Bill. He doesn’t like it when I drink and drive. My eyes widen when I find myself face to face with a huge burly man, with a shaved head, and tons of tattoos.

  “Are you too good for my girl, here?” He motions behind him. I look over his shoulder and see the red headed, older lady from the bar. Fuck me! She’s a hooker!? Holy shit!

  I hold my hands out in front of me. “No, I’m not. I just want to go home.” I feel the hairs on my arms standing on end. This is not going to end well, I just know it.