Fix You: Chapter 1

I tried my absolute hardest not to be obvious, but she was right across the cafeteria, in my full view.  It was nearly impossible not to stare at her.  I attempted to listen to Jeff closely and was careful to look away from her when he looked up from his notes, but I had failed.

"Dude… what are you looking at?"  He turned, following my line of sight, then looked back at me.  "Are you hearing a word I'm saying?  I am going to fail this exam if you don't help me, Eli.  You promised, man."
 
"I'm paying attention,"  I replied.  "You were talking about the derivatives.  I'm listening."  This seemed to satisfy Jeff, though he gave me a suspicious glare.  He obviously hadn't seen the beauty that I was looking at – at least, she hadn't captivated him the way she did me.

I glanced at her once more, while Jeff read straight from his notes, and I met with her big, brown eyes.  They were surrounded by dramatic eyelashes that only devastated my heart a little more than her eyes already had.  My lips curved into a smile.  She must have realized that I was staring back because her eyes widened a bit and she quickly turned her attention down to her notebook.  I turned back to Jeff and answered his question before he could look up at me with expectation.  I swore I saw her look up at me once more in my peripheral vision.  Then again,  I could have been kidding myself. 
 
It took the greatest of efforts not to tear my attention away from Jeff and his calculus homework.  It was all very ironic – I was the English/Literature major and Jeff was getting mathematics tutoring from me.  And he was in biochemistry!  Of all the humor.
 
Jeff sighed frustratedly and grabbed at his messy brown hair.  "Oh, my god. I'm going to fail!" 
 
I rolled my eyes.  "Stop stressing, Jeff.  The more you stress, the worse you'll do." 
 
He slammed his notebook shut.  "Thanks for that, man.  Really."  He shoved his notes and text into his backpack and hurriedly zipped it, standing from the table.  "I've got to go to class.  See you around."  Jeff rushed away.
 
I just shook my head.  Jeff was so quick to implode under pressure.  He would benefit from meditation or… something.  I took my time packing my notes away and looked up to see that she was still there.  Averlyn.  Her name was so beautiful, I could write a book on how it affected me.
 
Well, now is as good a time as any.
 
Before I approached her, I gazed at her image.  She seemed very focused on her notes, almost too focused as if she was only trying to appear focused.  I wondered what she was thinking, her forehead crinkled… in frustration?  She shifted in her chair and reached back to pull her long brown hair away from her neck.  Frustrated, yes.  Averlyn had the tendency to tie her hair back when she was stymied.  I only knew this since she was my lab partner in physics. 
 
Often so close to her, I was rarely allowed the opportunity to observe her this way.  In class, she could catch me.  That would be an awkward moment for the both of us.  I didn't want to ruin the fragile atmosphere of Tuesdays and Thursdays beginning at three-thirty.
 
I walked across the way, dodging people with trays of food.  From the corner of my eye, I saw a group rushing for my table, now empty.  It was difficult to find a place to sit at this hour.  Averlyn must have seen me as I approached her table, but she pretended not to notice.  It wasn't until I pulled the chair opposite her and turned it around for me to sit in that she looked up at me.  I grinned at her and she blinked.  "Are you going to ignore me today?" I teased, my eyes dancing across her face. 
 
"I'm not ignoring you," she said, averting her eyes from mine.  Averlyn stared down at her notebook and scrawled something in the margin of the page. 
 
She wasn't going to instigate conversation, I could see that much.  "So… how are you today?"  I inquired.  I crossed my arms on the top of the chair and rested my chin against my fist. I was trying to catch her gaze, but Averlyn was practiced at ignoring me.  She looked up and stared at something past my shoulder, pouting her lips.  She seemed to be… deliberating, I guessed.  How hard was it to answer such a common courtesy question? 
 
"Can't complain," she finally answered.  I almost thought she was being untruthful, but I set that thought aside.  If I believed she was lying, I'd be too curious and pry.  I knew all too well how she flinched when I asked questions, nevermind how simple they were.  As if reading my mind, Averlyn cringed and her eyes darted back to her notebook as if it were a safe zone.  "And you?"
 
I blinked.  Her silence had seemed to last forever and I nearly forgot what she was asking – returning my courtesy.  I nodded in reply.  "Good."  I cleared my throat.  This conversation, if you could call it that, could go on forever if I left it up to Averlyn.  She was so evasive that it drove me insane some days.  "I have a question for you, Averlyn," I added.
 
"If it's about the lab, I haven't completed it yet," she snapped.  Her eyes slowly looked up at me, as if cautious.
 
I smiled and sat up.  "No, it's not about the lab," I clarified.  "I haven't even looked at it yet, but don't worry, it will be done,"  I assured.  I leaned toward her and thought I saw her tilt away ever so slightly.  I was probably threatening her personal space.  I didn't know how long I could keep her here, so I figured I had better ask my question.  "Malcolm Gladwell is guest-lecturing this Friday and I was wondering if you'd like to join me."  So it wasn't exactly a question.  Close enough. 
 
I'd been scheming ways to spend time with her outside a classroom setting for weeks.  When I saw Gladwell's book beneath her physics text the other day, it was as if Averlyn was giving me the solution herself. 
 
"None of your friends are interested?"  Her voice sounded a bit cold.  I'd concluded that Averlyn behaved unsociably as a defense mechanism – as a manner of protection, though I was unsure from what. 
 
I grinned, hoping I was preserving my composure as well as I thought I was.  "No, I actually haven't invited my friends."  I saw confusion settle in Averlyn's brown eyes.  I was undecided as to why this was such a concern for her. 
 
"What makes you think I want to go?" she questioned.  Her tone seemed less curt this time around.
 
That was an easy question.  "I saw you had Tipping Point in class on Tuesday.  I figured you might want to hear Gladwell's lecture.  I'm interested as well."  I stared at her, waiting, nearly anxious for her answer.  Whatever she would reply had great implications.  On the positive, I had an opportunity.  On the negative… well, I wasn't really prepared for that.  It could be simple, or it could be complicated, but I would have to make the decision.
 
Averlyn looked away from me again.  Her face told me she was contemplating.  "Sure," she finally said. 
 
I hadn't realized I was holding my breath.  I exhaled rather noticeably, then quickly grinned at her.  "Great.  It's at seven at Kessler Hall.  I can pick you up if—"
 
"No," she interrupted, seeming alarmed.  "Um… I'll be on campus already.  I'll just meet you there."  Her voice was rushed.  I got the impression she really didn't want me to pick her up, so I didn't question her.  That would be prying.  I didn't need to push my luck; she could easily change her mind.
 
"Okay," I said.  "I'll see you then."  I pushed myself up from the chair and swung it back around, sliding it quietly beneath the table.  I had almost forgotten that I was in the middle of a noisy cafeteria, I had been so focused on Averlyn.  Someone ran into me from behind and muttered their apologies.  I just ignored them;  now wasn't the time.  "Oh, and uh… don't worry about the tickets."  I smiled at her warmly.  "I'll see you in class, Averlyn."  I tapped the table with my knuckles and turned to walk away before Averlyn could tell me she had forgotten about a previous obligation on Friday.  I didn't dare turn around.
 
The experience had been similar to pulling teeth, but the subsequent numbing effect was magnificent.  A complacent smile played on my lips as I traveled to class.
 
I was careful not to get too smug, as Averlyn had only agreed on Wednesday – she had plenty of time to cancel on me before Friday at seven.  The odds were not in my favor.  She could cancel up until the very last minute or neglect to show up at all. 
 
When three thirty rolled around on Thursday, I was very heedful of my behavior, afraid anything I did could displease her so quickly that she might not follow through with the lecture.  Even when Deanna turned around to flirt with me, per the usual, I kept my responses very succinct.  Honestly, I wasn't at all interested in Deanna Lewis; her personality was as cold and icy as her blue eyes, but I was by and large polite and generous in my replies to her invitations and implications.
 
Averlyn was easily annoyed by Deanna.  Every time she opened her mouth, Averlyn tried very hard to hide her impatience.  I found this comical.  Averlyn typically guarded her every emotion, but each class when Deanna turned to face me, I detected agitation beside me.  Deanna was proficient in the art of disregard – Averlyn might as well have been invisible. 
 
She would never be invisible to me.
 
Class couldn't progress quickly enough.  I was weary of hedging my bets and was internally pleading with the clock to speed along.  Averlyn seemed completely satisfied with my silence.  She rarely looked at me, and only spoke when necessary, asking me what my answer was for question thirteen or informing me that number twenty-two was a trick question. 
 
Never soon enough, the clock signaled the end of class.  The instant bustle of the room disrupted the long-standing silence and students began filtering out the door.  Before Averlyn could pack her notebook away, I reached over to scribble my phone number onto the header of her paper.  "Call me if you change your mind about that ride," I said, noting that her face looked alarmed as I had, once again, threatened her personal space.  "See you tomorrow, Averlyn."  I smiled at her, swinging my bag over my shoulder, and walked away, but not before catching the death-glare Deanna shot at Averlyn.
 
I instantly regretted my action, hoping I hadn't devastated my chances.  Why couldn't I have held off for just a little bit longer?  I was right there! 

Friday night, when I saw Averlyn shuffling across the parking lot toward Kessler, I was more than relieved.  The outcome was positive - I'd been given an opportunity, but I had yet to be free.  I still had to watch myself.  It was like catching sight of a deer in the woods; you had to be very still and silent, otherwise you'd spook the graceful creature and it would disappear, leaving little trace of its presence.  That's what I was afraid of: spooking her.  I didn't want her to disappear on me.

So I kept it light.  "Hey, how are you?"  I called out as she approached me.  When Averlyn was by my side, I turned, closing the distance between us, and we headed toward the front doors of Kessler.  I was surprised she didn't step away from me. 

"I'm okay," Averlyn responded quietly.  "You?"

"Good.  I have a feeling this is going to be a great lecture."  I figured that was enough.  Again, I didn't need to push my luck.  I opened the door, allowing her to step ahead of me. 

Malcolm Gladwell started his lecture promptly at seven.  The lights lowered so that all the audience could really see was our guest at the podium on stage.  He was an articulate man and I'm sure his speech was intriguing, but I hadn't been paying attention.  Every now and again I would catch a snippet, words stringing together in my head, but no comprehension.  I should have been paying attention.  What if Averlyn asks me questions about the lecture afterward?  That was highly unlikely. 

Typically, I was very focused.  My parents used to tease that the house could be on fire and I would be the only one clear of mind.  I was able to offset pressure and stress, think lucidly.  My mother called it a gift... I thought it was more of a talent, certainly something I wasn't born with.  And I could say this confidently since whenever Averlyn was around me, I seemed to lose my mind.  My thoughts would scramble and rarely was I able to focus.  If I could focus, it was only on her.  It was a wonder that I was passing physics.  I had to read through the assignments over and over again before I understood any of it. 

Throughout the lecture, my thoughts settled on Averlyn.  I glanced at her face every now and again - her eyes fixated on the speaker as she leaned away from me.  Her profile was striking, the light from the stage outlining her face in the darkness.  Averlyn was so peculiar.  Each day she heightened my curiosities and interests even more than the last.  She was disturbingly quiet, speaking only when absolutely necessary.  A degree of anguish was ever-present in her face, and in everything about her for that matter.  Every word she spoke, even the slightest of her movements communicated dejection.  It defied all logic to me - such sadness should not be associated with such beauty. 

Though Averlyn seemed broken, every now and then when I caught her gaze, I witnessed a glimmer of willpower, of strength.  I saw survival and determination in her brown eyes. 

If anyone was a living and breathing story, it was Averlyn Cooper... and  I intended to read her cover to cover. 

By the time we left the lecture hall, darkness had blanketed the sky and I had no intention of separating from Averlyn just yet.  I had to at least walk her to her car – it was the gentlemanly, and intelligent, thing to do.  "Where did you park?"  I asked her, shoving my hands into my pockets.  "I'll walk you to your car."

She shook her head, still not looking at me.  "That's not necessary.  What do I owe you for the ticket?"  Averlyn started fishing through her bag for her wallet, I assumed.

"You don't owe me anything, Averlyn.  Like I said, don't worry about it.  And, if you don't mind, I'd feel better with myself knowing you got to your car safely." 

"Well, I guess I can't argue with you," she replied, leading the way.  I was unsure of what had just happened.  Averlyn wasn't pushing back.  She had… indulged me.  Is this a breakthrough?  I didn't want to get my hopes up.  After all, it was only logical to walk her to her car in the dark.  I quickly gathered my thoughts and grinned.

I caught Averlyn's stride.  "So, did you enjoy the lecture?"  I questioned. 

She seemed to have less of an aversion to my inquiry.  Her face softened in the dim light of the parking lot lamps.  "I really did… thanks.  You?"

"Uh…"  Averlyn surprised me once again, doing the exact opposite of what I had previously thought.  "Yeah, I actually did.  I typically wouldn't come to this kind of thing.  I'm more of a fiction guy, myself.  But Gladwell has a very interesting writing style that captured me from the first page… and he made some interesting observations in the lecture."  Please don't ask which observations.

Averlyn nodded.  "I thought so too." 

I couldn't believe we were actually having a conversation.  It was like tennis, a steady back and forth.  Little tension, fulfilled expectation.  I took a deep breath.  "Listen, Averlyn… if you ever need anyone to… talk to--"

I must have lost my mind.  I knew in that moment that I had demolished my chances.

Instead of her recoiling as I had expected, Averlyn rolled her eyes.  "What makes you think I need someone to talk to?"  she asked, pulling her jacket tighter around her body.  I was unsure whether this was a response to the climate or the situation.

I shot her a knowing look.  Maybe I hadn't screwed things up after all.  "I'm really not as self-absorbed as some think I am."

Her face became apologetic.  "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean—"

"Don't apologize,”  I interrupted.  “You didn't do anything."  Her face relaxed.  "I can read people pretty easily.  It's kind of a… talent."

"You're just observant," she suggested. 

I tilted my head and flashed her a grin.  "That too."  Our pace had slowed.  We were halfway across the parking lot and I assumed she had parked on the opposite end from the lecture hall.  I didn't understand this – there had been plenty of parking spaces nearby.  Again, I didn't want to pry.  "I'm a good guy, Av."  What the hell was that?

Averlyn sighed, staring at the ground in front of her.  "I didn't mean to make you think that I think you're a bad guy." 

The complication of her sentence was amusing.  And then it was too late.  It was already in my mind.  Logic couldn't help me here.  "I know.  I'm just… trying to gain your trust, that's all.  Trust is a tricky thing.  It's a mutual concept and it's unfair if you can't trust someone who’s trustworthy." 

"I really don't think I'm being unfair to you, not letting you in on my personal life," she retorted, almost sourly.

I shook my head.  "I meant you were being unfair to yourself."

My response apparently wasn't the one she had expected, I could see that much on her face.  Averlyn stopped walking in front of a maroon Plymouth Reliant, a very old car.  The logo on the key dangling from her hand matched the one on the car; it was hers. 

I was going to be stupid and take this one step further.  I intentionally stared past her, so as not to make her too incredibly uncomfortable.  Averlyn wasn't much for eye contact.  "Would you want to see a movie sometime?"  I asked.  Slowly, I shifted my eyes to see if I couldn't measure her reaction.  At first, her face was confused.  Her stare nearly bore holes in my chest, where her eyes had rested.  If it wasn't for her delayed response, I would have assumed a negative answer.

"Um…"  Her eyes flickered up to mine.  "Sure."  Though she didn't seem sure.  There wasn't a trace of certainty in her face.  But I would take it.

I grinned and nodded.  "Okay.  We'll talk about it on Tuesday, then." 

Averlyn nodded.  "We'll talk," she replied.  I wondered if she purposely left out 'about the movie.'  Will she really talk to me?

She unlocked her car and slid onto the seat, not saying anything else.  I approached the driver's side before she could shut the door.  "Drive safely, Averlyn.  And thank you… for coming with me."  It could very well have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a brief grin play at her lips.  Then she buckled herself in, shut the door, and backed out of the lot.  I stood in the now-empty parking space, watching her drive away.  Did I just envision that she was watching me in her rearview mirror?