Unraveling (Second Chances) - By Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,18
you can’t see your face right now, I can. Spill it, baby cakes.”
“I went out to dinner last night-”
“With who? Tell me!” Rollo squealed, like a fan-girl meeting her favorite boy band.
“Jeez, Rollo,” I rubbed my ear, “keep it down a notch.”
“Sorry, baby cakes, but you have to tell me right now!”
“It wasn’t a date, or anything, so stop getting your hopes up. Piper asked me to go out,” I explained.
“Piper?” his brows furrowed together.
“The new girl in my Psych class.”
“Oh, now I remember her. So, what’s the reason for that puzzled look on your face?”
“Jared,” I answered, roughly.
“Hot bod’s got your panties in a bunch doesn’t he?” Rollo waggled his eyebrows.
“Rollo!” My jaw dropped and I smacked his arm. “You know that’s not it!”
He laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“You’re horrible!” I cried.
“No, I’m fabulous,” he countered.
“Rollo, that’s your answer to everything,” I laughed.
“That’s ‘cause it’s true,” he grinned.
I pushed his shoulder and headed to the living room and out of the closet sized kitchen. The kitchen may have been state of the art, with stainless steel and granite everything, but it was smaller than a shoebox. You could barely turn around in it.
I plopped on the couch and brought my knees up, resting my chin on top.
Rollo sat down beside me and gave me a long, hard look.
“Katy, I don’t know why you think you can’t let go of your past and move on. Despite what you believe, you’re not ruined.”
I turned away, so that Rollo couldn’t see my face.
“But I am,” I whispered.
“Katy,” he sighed. “You are not ruined,” he repeated.
“Rollo,” I turned towards him, “I can’t stand for anyone to touch me. What sane twenty-something year old guy is going to put up with that. Huh?”
“Baby cakes,” Rollo said softly, moving my hair out of my eyes, “I’m telling you, there’s something different about Jared. Please, just give the guy a chance to prove himself to you.”
“I guess I already did,” I muttered. “I agreed to go out with him.”
Rollo’s jaw dropped to the floor. I reached over and pushed it back up before he got drool on my couch.
“Seriously? You said you’d go out with hot bod?” He looked over his shoulder, up at the ceiling, and all over the room.
“What are you looking for?” I laughed.
“The cameras, I must be on Punk’d.”
“No, Rollo, this isn’t Punk’d. He kind of trapped me into going out.” Rollo started to say something but I held my finger up. “It’s not a date.”
“Oh, it’s a date,” he grinned. “I would so hug you right now if I wasn’t afraid you’d drop kick me.”
I threw a pillow at his head. “I would never drop kick you, Rollo.”
“Oh please, I can see it in your eyes, you totally would,” he put the pillow back in its rightful place. “How about a finger hug instead? Minimal touching and it will make me feel better,” he pouted.
“Fine,” I rolled my eyes. “But I really wouldn’t kick you if you hugged me.”
“True,” his blue eyes softened, “but you would flinch and that would hurt my feelings.”
“Rollo-”
“There’s no need to explain, Katy. I know. Just please humor me,” he stuck out his index finger at a slight curve. “Finger hug.”
I grasped his index finger in mine and held on for three seconds before letting go.
Rollo looked at me with a sad smile. “I miss the old, Katy.”
“Rollo,” I swallowed and closed my eyes. “I promise, she’s still inside me somewhere, and I’m going to try really hard to find her.”
He turned the TV on. “I know you will, baby cakes. I’m just worried that it’s taking too long to find her and that once you finally do, it will be impossible to revive her.”
A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye, and then another. “Do you really think that?”
Rollo sighed. “Katy, you’re my best friend. I love you like a sister and would do anything for you. But sometimes,” he picked at a thread on the couch, “sometimes, I really miss the old carefree Katy. I know what happened with Preston wasn’t your fault but I hate that you’ve let it consume your whole life. You’re stronger than that, Katy, and yet, you want to let it eat away at you. I wish you could see that it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for Preston to rape you. That’s why it’s called rape, Katyrina. I just hate that you’ve let that prick rule the last two years of your life. You deserve