Miss Me; When I'm Gone (editing)

CHAPTER 12 (Blair)

Blair

My double date had to be postponed. We had set it for Thursday, but Thursday was the first evening that I could meet with Dr. VanWoodson.

I thought about calling Travis, and telling him that I had called the professor and set up my first meeting, but he said to call him after my meeting. I didn't want to bug him. So instead, I stared at the photo of his boots on my phone.

I had a crush on Travis Miliani. It wasn't my first crush. I'd had a couple in highschool, but I soon found out that those guys were flirting with me when no one else was around. When they saw me in the halls, they ignored me. I was invisible to them, unless they got me alone. Those crushed died quickly, and I stopped paying attention to cute guys.

My senior year, the captain of the cheer leading squad caught her boyfriend cornering me outside and got furious. He never spoke to me again. Which was a relief. But then, shortly afterward the entire school was talking about me being a lesbian.

I didn't figure that was a bad thing. I wasn't into girls. Especially the mean vipers I went to school with, but I sure wasn't into any of the guys there, either. So I let them call me names, and I ignored them.

Eventually, they moved on to someone else who responded to their cruelty. Needless to say, it had been a while since I had actually had a real, honest-to-God crush on a guy. My stepfather had made sure that I kept men away; at a football fields length. I cringed thinking of the man who had taken my innocence and tainted me for life.

Shoving all thoughts concerning Travis aside, I went to take a shower. Memories of how my stepfather always sent me to scrub my body clean under the hottest water I could stand popped into my head, but at least I no longer threw up when I thought of him. I was getting distance from my terrible past. I was improving.

Wednesday evening, my phone rang just as I pulled the lasagne I've made out of the oven. I had made an entire pan of it, hoping that Owen might want to come over and eat. But he'd called me at around three to me me know he was going out that no gut, since I'd bailed on our double date night. He was on me about giving him another night that would work, but I couldn't seem to muster the interest. Right now, I was very focused on learning how to read.

So I kept coming up with excuses for why I wouldn't go. I dropped my oven mitt and went to pick up my phone. My heart started racing when I saw the cowboy boots on my screen. It was Travis.

"Hello," I said on the third ring.

"Hey. You haven't called me." His deep voice can over the phone, and my toes curled up into the carpet.

"Oh, well, I don't go to my first meeting until tomorrow," I explained, really thankful that he couldn't see the silly from on my face right then.

"Good. You have one scheduled. Did you like him when you spoke to him over the phone?"

I walked over and sat down in the chair he had sat in before he left and pulled my feet up under me.

"Yes. He was very nice. He seemed eager to meet with me. He asked me several questions, and after hearing my answers, he said he was positive that I do, in fact, have dyslexia."

I had wanted to dance around dance around the room when he had told me that.

"I'll be available tomorrow evening. Call me when its over. I want to hear everything."

The fact that he cared so much made my little crush pulse and grow even more. Having a crush on someone like Travis Miliani was ridiculous. He probably had a world of women with crushes on him. He was help in me, and it would make him uncomfortable to know how I felt.

"Ok. I'll call," I assured him.

"Good. I've got to go. I'm having dinner at my parents'. I'll talk to you tomorrow night."

"Okay, bye," I replied.

Dropping my phone into my lap, I felt like clapping and squealing. But instead, I got up and went to enjoy some lasagne.

Ryker VanWoodson was not what I had been expecting. When I thought of a professor, I imagined a man with silver in his hair and possibly glasses. Maybe even a little pot belly under his button-up-shirt.

What i hadn't expected was a man of about thirty-five, with a tall, lanky body, wearing a pair of blue jeans, Nike tennis shoes, and a short-sleeved polo shirt. He wasn't handsome, exactly, but then I was comparing him with Travis, and that wasn't exactly fair. I wouldn't want to be compared with Karleah. They were the beautiful people. So I shouldn't do that to Dr.VanWoodson.

His soft brown eyes were kind. He didn't make me nervous at all. The moment I walked into his office, he stood up and with an easy smile, invited me to have a seat. After every question and request, he assured me that it was all to help me learn. It was so obvious that he was excited about the challenge I presented to him. He shared the story of his father's struggle, and I was in awe of how, at twenty-one years old, Dr. VanWoodson had taught his father to conquer something he had been dealing with his whole life.

But when I got up to leave, he made a comment I didn't understand. I thought about it on the car ride back home, while the female driver chatted on about her grandkids and how good her chicken and dumplings were.

When I had thanked him for fitting me into his schedule so quickly, he had said I had Mr. Miliani to thank for that. Question was, what did that mean? Had Travis done something to get him to act so swiftly? And if so, what?