Don't Stand So Close To Me

I just knew that he loved me. I could feel it. Now all I had to do was get him to see it!

Love. Pfft. I never touched the stuff in high school. I watched all the BDG's around me (also known as Big Dumb Girls) fall for this loser and that jerk then lament that their boyfriends were mean or inattentive or, just plainly, an a*****e. Why bother going through all the hassle? Guys were jerks, and girls kept giving them chances to be that way. I never really got it. People left so why bother? My dad left my mom for another woman when I was twelve. Then Momma died of a broken heart fueled  by too many Jack and cokes and a rather large maple tree a year later. My brothers; Mike, Matt, and Chris, took care of me until I was old enough to look after myself at the age of fifteen. As long as I stayed out of trouble and was home in the mornings before they left for work, I was golden.

That's not to say that I didn't have my fun growing up. But I did it to the beat of not just my own drummer, but my very own band! I have been told that I am rather pretty with cat shaped bottle green eyes curtained by sable curls that hung to mid back of my busty frame. My looks and laid back personality made it easy for me to date who I wanted to date when I wanted to date them. I slept with whom I wanted when I wanted to sleep with them. Guys seemed to dig that I didn't really want to tie them down but respected me enough to not see me as a booty call. And if they did make that mistake, they only made it once thanks to my three older brothers.

In college it was the same. I partied when I wanted, studied a lot, and made friends but wasn’t close to anyone really. I didn’t see why I should bother. I watched as my friends fell in love over and over again, got pregnant and-or married and moved away. I went to the celebrations, laughed and smiled with them but in my heart I was shaking my head at the futility of it all. People were the worst kind of creature; unfaithful, selfish, and unknowingly cruel to those around them. I just saw no reason to commit yourself to a person that was going to disappoint you later.

While in college I discovered a love of creative writing that seemed to light me from within and poured out of me like liquid onto sheets of paper. I imagined myself an artist that painted with words onto lined canvases. My professor, a man who seemed no older than most of his students when he smiled, had such a passion for his craft that it was infectious. Scott, as he begged as to call him, was attractive in a normal sort of way but when he spoke of writing, he transformed into this gorgeous man that stirred passion within his students with his words and animation.

At least that was how it was for me.

It started my sophomore year, when I took Creative Writing and You for some easy English credits. I figured I’d jot down some bull, glide through the three day a week class and keep a pretty easy schedule so that I could work off campus at the local college dive bar for some extra cash. But Scott walked in dressed like some wizard with a long purple robe and floppy cone hat emblazed with silver stars and moons. He waved his “wand” across the board and scribbled his name in this off handedly casual script and then leapt onto his desk in front of us. There were a few giggles, mine among them, and he grinned at us with this charming little boy at Christmas grin. “You are here to write. You are here to make me laugh out loud in the middle of the night while I am home drinking a beer. You are here to scare me into nightmares. You are here to show me worlds I never dreamed of and places I will never find on a map. You are here to create characters that are fantastically normal and normally fantastic. You are here to spurn my own stubborn Muse and inspire me into even greater works.” He smiled at us and then sank gracefully onto the desk, hugging his knees with that same grin on his face. “And I am here to show you how easy and fun it is to do all those things. If you are thinking this will be a cake class, well, you are probably right. But for those of you bitten by the writing bug, I say follow me into the world of imagination!”

I laughed as someone started to hum the song from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Scott joined in with the sound, and it seemed like his unbelievable blue eyes lazered into me as we locked gazes. I felt my skin flush and I had to turn away, dropping my eyes onto my notebook. The rest of the class was merely a discussion of what we were to expect and what Scott expected of us. I don’t really remember much of it, but I took notes that made some sense. I looked over the syllabus as I was leaving and frowned at the work load. How had I missed such a crucial part of the curriculum! I walked up to the front of the class, fighting like a salmon against the tide of students leaving. Scott was busy pulling off the robe to reveal a body that wouldn’t make anyone drool in lust. Only my mouth was suddenly pooled with saliva and I had a hard time swallowing it. “Mr.-“

“Scott,” he interrupted, the sound of his smooth voice muffled in the thick purple rayon. His head finally popped out from under the robe and he tossed it onto the desk with graceful indifference. “Please, just Scott. Anything else makes me feel way older than I want to admit to being.”

I grinned, my mouth mirroring his own and just nodded like an idiot. He cocked his head at me with a questioning look, while raising his eyebrows. I snorted at myself, closing my eyes as if in pain for a second or two. “It’s about the work load, uh, Scott. I thought you said this was going to be a cake class?”

“I lied.”

He said it so casually that I was shocked into looking into those eyes again and found that the air had suddenly escaped from my lungs. “But-“

“No worries, love. You’ll do fine. I can always tell who are going to my prize students in the first class. And you, um,” he paused, running a hand through his blond shag cut.

“Melissa.”

“And you, Melissa, will be one of the top. I have faith in you.”

How could you argue with that? Of course, I should have. I should have thought that it was the same speech he probably gave everyone that questioned him about the course load, but I just nodded, feeling more confident. I nodded again, and he patted my shoulder before gathering up his things to leave. I followed him with my eyes; confused at my body’s reactions to a man I had just met. And wondering why I was already looking forward to Wednesday. That night I got started on the first assignment, even though it wasn’t due for another three weeks. We had to write a story about a tragic moment in our life, only we had to write it from an outsider’s unbiased point of view. I ignored my phone and my door the rest of the night as I poured out the story of my mother’s death onto paper. At the end of the 55 hundred word story I was exhausted. My eyes were bleary from crying and my head hurt, but I felt lighter, calmer. Almost peaceful. And I owed it all to Scott.

Wednesday came, and I was so eager to show Scott my work that I was in class twenty minutes before it started. He was sitting at the desk, reading some ratty paperback and nodding as if following a conversation only he could hear. I cleared my throat a few times, but Scott was lost in the story. “Scott?” I tried.

He jumped, uttering a curse. It was so adorable that I wanted to hug him close to me and was already reaching for him when he looked up. “Yeah?”

“I’m Melissa. I’m in Creative Writing and You.”

Scott’s smile warmed by degrees. “Right. The one that didn’t like the fact that I am a liar. What can I do you for?”

I smiled, shaking my head at his teasing. “I finished the assignment.”

Scott took the pages I offered him, cocking his head in that confused way again. “The assign-. Wait, you mean the end of the month assignment?” He looked at the pages in awe, scanning them. Then something caught his attention and he stared at the page with that intense focus that made my hand tingle. “This part right here… Nice descriptions,… Whoa! That’s some phrase turning there, Melissa,” Scott muttered as he read through. He sighed, almost sadly and set my work aside. “I really want to give this the attention it looks like it deserves, but I have a class I need to teach.”

I looked behind me, finally noticing the other students filing in. I nodded, before taking my seat. He liked it, really liked it. Something inside of me felt like it was sliding into place. I couldn’t even begin to describe what his words meant to me. And from the look on Scott’s face when his eyes met mine throughout the lecture, I knew I didn’t need to. We had a connection of some…thing. I didn’t know what it was yet, but I knew that this was something real that would alter my life.

To accommodate my work schedule at bar, I dropped my pottery class and another English class, figuring I could make them up later in the semester. It was Thursday night, near close when Scott walked in. I could feel someone looking at me, and ignored it at first, flirting with the Beta guys to achieve that extra cash I wanted. After a few minutes, I finally looked up to meet those eyes, those so blue eyes that calling them blue was almost insulting. He grinned and waved a ten at me when I started over. “Well, well, it’s my favorite little bitten protégé.”

“ ‘Allo, Scott. What can I do you for?”

He laughed, and I let mine join his, feeling that odd tingle in my hand again. “Whatever’s cold and close.” I pulled out a bottle and popped the cap off for him, pushing the ten back at Scott. He grinned and pushed it right back across the bar at me. “Throw it towards buying more ink, Lis. Because if that story is any indication, you are going to need it.”

I smirked at the nickname, not at all offended like I usually would have been. It made it sound much more intimate that he was so familiar with me. I took then ten, and pocketed it, frowning. “You didn’t like it? I mean, I’m sure it was pretty rough and all, but-“

“No, no. You misunderstand. It was phenomenal. There are parts that need work, sure, but the feelings, the raw emotion. That was the part that got at me.” Scott leaned towards me and touched my hand briefly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Unbidden, my eyes flooded. I bowed my head to give myself a few moments to get under control, before flashing my megawatt smile at the professor. “No worries, right?”

“Right,” he grinned, taking a pull from his bottle.

We chatted a little, and he offered to walk me to my car at the end of the night. I accepted, feeling my heart thud. There was something so profound about the way just walking with Scott made me feel. And the light that was in his eyes let me know he felt the same way. Of course he did, how could he not! The feeling was so large that it spilled out of me and was absorbed and then rebounded from him as we crunched over the gravel parking lot. He opened my door for me, and smiled as he bid me to drive safe. “See you Friday, Lis.”

See you Friday, Lis. Nothing so musically potent had even been said. I drove back to me apartment in a semi fog. I was quiet as I let myself in so as not to wake my roommates. See you Friday, Lis. I replayed that bit of our night over and over in my head as I tried to find sleep.

That was how our affair started. Not a physical one, Scott had way to much integrity for that. But we were mental lovers, caressing each other with words and paragraph structure. I shared with him my most guarded ideas and thoughts, and Scott took them with such care that I always felt safe with him. During my third year in college, I became a Teacher’s Aide for Scott, helping him grade papers and took care of his office. We became more familiar and friendly with each other, allowing the love between to grow in small leaps and jumps through the months that lead to years.  He never really cared to ask me about my personal life, and so I respected him enough to stay out of his. We trusted each other that much!

Perhaps I shouldn’t have. Perhaps that was where I made my mistake. I should have been more careful, watched him more closely. Maybe then the announcement of his engagement wouldn’t have been such a shock. I was months from graduating with a degree in English, all due to Scott’s help. I had been his TA for two years and taken every class he had ever offered at the college.  And he still came in once a week, usually on Thursdays to the bar where we would discuss books or adaptations made into movies. We talked music and sports, agreeing in most areas. He remembered my birthday every year and gave me a gift card to Barnes and Noble, and sent me a dozen pink carnations to my apartment. We were in love! At least, I thought we were until that particular Thursday.

He came in, already toasted more than I had ever seen him, laughing loudly with a few other professors from the English department and a couple of guys around his age that I didn’t recognize. They walked right up to the bar, demanding service for the bachelor’s last night. I grinned at Scott, who seemed to be holding onto his stool for dear life. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Scott right here,” someone boomed, obnoxiously. “Crazy Scott finally got Alison to agree to marry him and now we’re celebrating his last night of freedom!”

The bottle slipped out of my nerveless hands, crashing to the floor. No one seemed to notice, not even the man I was pinning down with my wounded gaze. Scott. My Scott. My Scott was getting married? To some w***e named Alison? Who the f**k was Alison?

The last question must have slipped out because Scott finally managed to focus on me. “Ahh, Lis. My favorite little writer. Beer us! I’m marrying the most beautiful girl in the world, the most creative person I have ever met! To Alison!”

The air was gone. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see past his dopey smile. He was getting married to the most creative person he had ever met! He wasn’t waiting for me to graduate so that we could finally be together. He never…he never saw me! He never really loved me! He never cared! He was breaking my heart, had to know that he was breaking my heart and the a*****e just drank to some w***e that would never remember why he liked Faulkner better than Lawrence, or why he only drank his coffee with two sugars in the morning but six at night. Did Alison know about his tendency to wear comic book t-shirts under his button downs in Fridays? Did she know all the Chuck Norris jokes that I did that made Scott giggle like a kid? Could she suck a golf ball through three feet of garden hose? Did she love him like I did?!?!

Fortunately for me, there was another bartender there that night. I told her I was feeling sick and had to go home, which made her happy because then we didn’t have to split the tips. I gathered my things without looking at Scott’s party and ran to my car. Tears were rivering down my face, making it hard to drive at first. I ran to my room, ignoring my roommates and slammed the door on reality. There, right by my bed was my little table dedicated to me and Scott. Every paper of mine he had ever graded. Every carnation ever given dried and pressed lovingly between wax paper. The napkins he doodled on while he was at the bar, the matchbooks he left behind casually with little haikus in them, things I had taken as gifts from my secret lover. I threw them off the nightstand with a vengeful flinging of my arm before throwing myself down into my mounds of pillows. Scott was getting married. I finally got why the BDG’s always moped around after a break up. Why they acted as they couldn’t survive, why food had no taste, why sleep offered no reprieve. I now understood what it was to be broken hearted and cast aside.

But…I wasn’t a BDG. I was strong and independent. Those girls just let things like this happened to them, just accepted it. I wasn’t like that. I couldn’t be like that.  I could make Scott understand. I had to make him see that this was a mistake. That he had to love me, I knew he did! And that was when the plan started to form in my now creative brain. This was a test, Scott just didn’t know that we were meant to be together.

It was Saturday when I set things into motion. A cold and rainy day which suited my mood perfectly. I walked up the brick stones to Scott’s front door, my arms full of papers and my over large bag full of my tools to prove my love to Scott. I kicked at the door with my foot, and waited, forcing a smile to my face. I shivered in my short skirt while I waited; hoping that that w***e didn’t live with Scott. I really didn’t want anyone to have to die tonight. He opened it, looking rumpled in a loose sweater and tight jeans.

“Lis?” He asked, his tone sleepy and confused.

“Hey, Scott. Here are the mid terms papers that you need to go over for your final review and grading.,” I stated cheerfully, forcing them into his arms  effectively pushing him into his hallway as I came in.

“But…what? Why didn’t you just wait till Monday?” Scott asked, his tone still confused. He grumbled about the weather, and frowned as I closed his door. “What are you doing?”

“It’s starting to pour outside, did you want water all in your hall?” I shook my head, patting his shoulder as I kicked off my shoes and walked deeper into his home. Scott followed me, still trying to wake up fully. “What a great place. You live here all alone?”

“Yeah, for now. Melissa, what’s going on? Why didn’t you just wait until Monday?” he asked, dumping the folders I had spent hours organizing onto the dining room table that was already littered with left over Coke cans and cigarette packs around his lap top.

Sighing, I moved to re-stack the folders. “Because I won’t be here on Monday. I’m taking a week off, and you needed these folders before I left.”

“Left? What do you mean you’re leaving? Where are you going?” He asked, his concern touching me.

I looked up, smiling a little sadly. “My brother Mike is really sick His wife just left him and their three kids a few months ago, and now he’s sick with the flu or something. So, he asked me to come home for a bit to watch after his midgets while he gets better and I said sure. So, I’m leaving tonight to drive back to Trenton. And like I said, you needed these. I would have given them to you yesterday, but it wasn’t until after nine when he called. “

Scott nodded, sighing a bit. “Well, sure, of course. Though what I am going to do without you, I just don’t know. I count on you so much these past few years. I mean, who’s going to get my coffee right?”

I grinned, answering his with a wink. Then I moved to the lap top, scanning the pages. “What are you working on?”

“My vows.”

Those words were like a rock, shattering the cloud dream that I was trying to build here. I turned away from his gaze, shaking in anger. “That reminds me, I got you something.”

“Really?” Scoot asked eagerly, sounding more awake.

I nodded and went into the hall for my bag. I set it on the table, where the contents clunked and thudded before pulling out a rather large bottle of Scott’s favorite wine. “To celebrate.”

“Oh, Lis, how sweet! Thank you!” He reached for it, walking towards me with those warm eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered right before I swung the bottle like a club at his temple. Scott didn’t even have time to be surprised as he slumped to the floor. I wiped a rouge tear, before setting the bottle down on the table. “You just have to really pay attention, now, okay, Scott? Really focus.” I bent over and managed, barely, to work him into a chair. I undressed him quickly, leaving on his Superman boxer’s, though I did manage to give his package a through look. With zip cords, I tied my nearly naked professor to the chair and then started to tidy up while I waited for him to gain conscious. It took longer that I thought, scaring me into checking his breathing every few minutes. Finally, as I was loading his dishwasher, I heard Scott groan. I walked up, silent as a cat, behind him, shaking with nerves.

“What the bloody hell!?” Scott demanded, trying to pull his arms free. “What is going on? Lis! Lis, are you okay? Who the hell did this?”

I moved in the gathering gloom as the sun started to set, and stood in front of him. “I’m okay,” I started, trying to assuage his stress and concern. “Everything’s going to be okay now, Scott.”

“Lis, what is going on!”

“Well, I’m saving you from making a horrible mistake. You know that you don’t want to be with this Alison. You love me. You know you do! You have to. Because I have never felt this for anyone in my whole life and it would be unfair of you not to love me back.”

He sat there, dumbfounded. He shook his head, as if to clear it, but then moaned again. The bruise marring his face made me feel sick, and I reached to touch it tenderly. Only, Scott jerked from him, his eyes wide in panic. “Melissa, you have to untie me.”

“Not until you listen, Scott. You are just confused.”

“Oh, no, honey, I think you are the one confused. Lis, this is all really flattering, but you’re going to get into some real trouble unless you do exactly what I tell you. You have to untie me and…and let me put my clothes back on. Alison is on her way over and she won’t be nearly as understanding, ok? Just let me go, and we’ll talk about it all after you come back from Trenton. We’ll sit down and talk and we’ll get you some help. Okay?”

I shook my head, fighting my tears. “You’d let that w***e into our home? After I just spent all afternoon cleaning it for you?” I was enraged, feeling things in such precise perfection that I could feel my vision get clearer and my heart beat in a thundering tempo.

“Lis, listen to me. Untie me so we can talk. I can’t talk when I am so uncomfortable.”

“No! No, you have to listen! I love you. I have never loved anyone, ever! You are the only one I can think about, dream about.  You can’t marry her! I’m the one you love! You love me, do you hear me? You have to! We have been together for nearly three years. I have plans! I know that you never made a pass at me because you respect me, because you have to be careful because of your job. But I am graduating in a few months. Then we can be together,” I said, kneeling near him in desperation. Scott had to understand. Now that he knew that I loved him, he had to see that I was the one for him.  

Scott smiled at me sadly, moving his foot to touch me. “Oh, sweetheart, you are just too young to understand about love yet. You’ve not given yourself enough time to experience life. Melissa, untie me so we can talk about this okay? I’ll explain it all to you as soon as I have my pants back on.”

“Scoot,” I pleaded. I couldn’t stop crying. He did care. He wanted to show me. He thought that I didn’t know about love, he wanted to tell me about how he felt. I reached towards my bag where the knife, preparing to cut the zip cords. But then I head his front door open and I stood quickly, dizzy now.

“Scottie, love, why are all the lights off?”

Alison, I thought with a cruel twist to my mouth. I could smell her overly sweet perfume before I saw her. I grabbed the small hand gun instead of the knife and watched as fear finally entered Scott’s oh so blue eyes. “No, Allie, get out!”

“Get out? What are-“ There she was. My nemesis. Tall and blond, skinny to the point of almost no curves, glasses and nerdy looking in a long pencil skirt and a plain blue button down shirt. “What’s going on, Scottie?”

“You’re leaving. Right now. You heard my Scott, he said get out.” I said, pointing the gun at her. I had only fired it a few times, being coached by Chris, my police officer brother. But I was confident enough to hold it with barely any shaking.

“Your Scott? What are you talking about? Where is-oh, God! Scottie!” Alison ran to him, even as he kept telling her to leave, that it was all under control, that she had to go. “No, of course I’m not leaving you! What are you tied to the chair with? God, Scottie!”

“Stop. Touching. HIM!” I screamed, releasing the safety on the gun. “We are talking about our future! You need to leave!”

Scott looked up at me, his face pleading. “Melissa, please. Please, I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t hurt her.”

“I love you, Scott. But she’s the reason you won’t be with me. She has to go. I didn’t want it to be like this, but you won’t listen. You… you haven’t even told me you love me,” I said, never taking my eyes off the blond that was still trying to find a way to loosen his binds.

“Melissa, I don’t want to lie. I do feel something for you, but it’s not love. And if you really analyze what you are doing, you’ll realize that you don’t love me either. Now, why not let Alison go, and then untie me so we can really talk about this, hmm?” Scott’s voice was so persuasive, so quietly commanding that I swayed on my feet. The hand holding the gun trained on Alison started to lower when she stood and smacked his arm.

“Don’t you get it, Scottie? She came here to kill you! She’s crazy! Look at her! She’s nuts. Listen to me, you fruitbat! You will put that gun down and help me untie my fiancé. Then we will call the cops, because you are really off in the head!” She started towards me, stupidly unafraid. I pulled the gun back up, and pointed it at her.

“Love makes you crazy,” I said softly, as I started to pull the trigger.

“No!” Scott screamed seconds before the gun went off and he somehow managed to stand, oddly bent. He moved in front of Alison, blocking her body with his and I screamed as the blood seemed to explode out of him. I wanted to take it back, right then, as Scott slumped to the floor. Alison was crying , trying to push the blood pouring out over his neck back into him.

“You hit an artery! He’s dying! You stupid b***h, look what you have done to my Scottie!”

My legs felt like water as I hit the floor. Scott looked around, trying to smile. “I love you. Now and always.”  Then his lids slid over those haunting blue eyes and Alison was screaming, and I was crying, and the rain beat against the windows. Soon, red lights splashed like rainbows on the wall across from me, as Alison continued to beg Scott to hold on. There were police everywhere, and MT’s rushing to Scott, cutting him free. Someone took the gun from me, and I was being dragged to my feet. I could feel the handcuffs bite into my wrists, and then the rain as it pounded against my face, until I was shoved into the back end of some car.

He had loved me, his had said it with his dying breath.

Love. Finally, I was loved.