Melissa Collins: Let Love Heal

“Okay, so what else needs to get done around here?” Mom asks in a weak attempt to dismiss the current conversation. She’s scanning the suite, but honestly, everything is taken care of.

“I think I’m good, Mom. My room’s all set up and you just scrubbed every scrubbable surface in this place. Your job here is done.” I may be mocking her a little, but my appreciation still shines through.

Wiping her hands on her jeans, which are not “mom jeans” by the way, she scans the room once more before adding, “Okay, then I think I’ll hit the road now. Maddy and Reid are moving tomorrow and I don’t want that girl lifting anything.”

“Oh, please, Mom! Like Reid would let her anyway.” Mom just laughs at my arched eyebrow and sarcastic tone, but she knows Reid won’t let Maddy do a thing. It’ll drive Maddy crazy, but there’s no way on Earth that Reid’s girl is going to lift a finger.

Mom just chuckles a small laugh. “Yeah, you’re right, but I want to help them get settled too. You sure you’re not mad that I’m not staying the night?” We’ve been over this more than a few times, so I can’t help but sigh at her. I offered to stay home an extra day to help, but Maddy told me that I should come back to school a few days before everyone else and clear my head. And even though I may be beyond thrilled for Maddy and Reid, watching them move on with their lives just reminds me how twisted mine currently is.

“Yes, Mom.” Annoyance punctuates each word. “I told you I’ll be fine. The security desk is manned all night long and Cammie and Lia will be here Saturday. It’ll actually be nice to have the place to myself for a little while. Besides, I’ve got my Sex and the City marathon all lined up. There’s ice cream in the freezer and chips in the cabinet. What more could I want?”

I walk her toward the door as she slings her purse over her shoulder. Stopping in the doorway, she gives me one more hug and a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Alright, sweetie. Please call me if you need anything. I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks then.”

I nod in response, afraid to speak past the lump of emotion that’s swelling in my throat. One last kiss on the cheek, and a “Bye-bye, baby,” and she’s walking down the hall toward the stairs.

I can see her pull away as I watch from the living room window. I wave out to her and she blows a kiss up to me.

Unwilling to address my sorrow and sadness, I pop in a DVD and hope that Samantha, Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte will help break me out of this funk. And hell, if they can’t, I’m pretty sure the slew of hotties who chase after them will help lift my spirits. I drift off somewhere in the middle of a random encounter between Carrie and Mr. Big that alters the path of her life.

Coffee. Must. Have. Coffee. I’m practically dragging myself across campus to the little coffee shop inside of the student lounge after my eight a.m. Western Civilization class. Why on earth did I sign up for early classes? This will not be happening next semester.

After a few sips of my much-needed caffeine fix, I stand looking at the large corkboard that’s plastered with advertisements – looking for a new roommate, trying to sell a car, searching for Jesus. The roommate, I’ve got; the car, I don’t need. And Jesus? I’ll just leave well enough alone on that one.

Just as I’m about to walk away, a hot pink flyer advertising an opening in the computer lab catches my attention. I need to get a job. I know Mom will send me money and take care of me and all that, but I don’t want her to have to. I want to be somewhat self-sufficient and this job looks like the perfect way to do that. And a computer lab will be nice and quiet; I’ll be able to get some work done and I bet no one will even notice me. I can sit behind a desk and bask in anonymity while everyone else becomes engrossed in their own work.

Checking my watch, I realize I have less than an hour before my next class. That’s just enough time to walk over to the lab and introduce myself instead of calling the number on the flyer. Luckily, the lab is in the same building as my next class so I have to go that way anyway.

Perfect.

Since it’s the first week of classes and it’s only ten in the morning, the lab is completely empty. It’s quiet; all I hear is the humming and buzzing of the rows of computers and monitors. I walk toward the front of the room where I see a small office. There has to be someone here. Stepping up to the door and tapping on it lightly, I notice that there is someone crouched underneath the desk straightening out some wires and cords.

“Hello.” I call out timidly. I hear a thud, as what I assume is a head bumps into the underside of the desk. A male voice calls out “Crap” and I can’t help but giggle that I’ve surprised whoever is under there. He then says, “I’ll be right with you.”

“Okay, take your time. Sorry for interrupting. I’ll be waiting out in the lab.” I make my way back out to the main room and wait patiently for “under the desk mystery man” to meet me. And when he does, oh my dear sweet Lord of all things hot. I was fully expecting suspenders, a pocket protector, glasses, and plaid pants pulled up to his chest. I was expecting someone more along the lines of Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory , but what I got was Bradley Cooper from The Hangover .

That’s two very different Coopers.

My mouth goes dry and I’m suddenly struck dumb. As he walks to me, he wipes his hands on his faded and oh-so-soft looking jeans and then inspects them to make sure they’re clean. Standing before me, he extends his hand, and by some miraculous force, I’m able to put together, “Hi. I’m here to apply for the job.” My voice is squeaky as I wave the hot pink sign in between us. Shaking his hand causes sparks of electricity to course through my arm. “Wow. I just put that sign up this morning. I didn’t expect anyone to apply for a few days.” His voice is like velvet and it does funny things to my insides. When he releases my hand, it’s still hot from his touch.

“Let me go get some paperwork for you to fill out …” His sentence hangs in the air between us and I realize that I haven’t told him my name.

“Melanie. I’m Melanie Crane. It’s nice to meet you …”

“Bryan Mahoney.” And when he smiles at me as his name rolls off his tongue, I feel like a giddy school girl.

“Okay then, Melanie. Let me go get that paperwork and we’ll get the ball rolling.” He turns to walk away from me and my eyes are glued to his body. What the hell? A hot computer geek. You have got to be kidding me. This boy is seriously fine. Tall, lean and just plain beautiful. I should leave right now. I thought this would be a nice quiet job where I could go completely unnoticed, but there’s no way in hell I can work with him. He’s freaking hot and I’m, well, I’m not. I’ll be a bumbling fool the entire time I’m around him.

Just as I’m about to walk out the door, Bryan calls out to me. “Hey, Melanie! Where are you going?” Call me crazy, but there is a hint of desperation in his voice. With my hand hovering above the door knob, I inhale deeply and figure what the hell. I might as well go for it. The truth is he probably won’t even know I exist. Guys like him never notice girls like me anyway. I turn toward him and smile as I say, “No, I just have class in a few minutes. I wasn’t expecting to actually do an interview or anything. I don’t want to be late; that’s all.”

I flat out lie and just hope he doesn’t catch on.

His returning smile is blinding. Perfectly straight, white teeth flash before me, but what hits me in the gut is how his eyes smile along with his mouth. They crinkle in the corners and he shakes his head just a little. It looks like he’s laughing at me, but not in an “I’m making fun of you way.” Maybe he’s caught on, after all.