Citrus

Chapter 3

The first week was busy. First, I went with Blair to finish stocking our apartment and make it feel like home. This meant that I was picking out drapes, matching towels, and cute rugs while Blair found little plants and niche knick-knacks that she claimed 'needed to be in our living room'. I had to draw the line at the random garden gnome she found, with a pinched face, that she wanted to leave on our balcony.

Next, I had to worry about my classes, which had started with a bang. Iverson University boasted about the many programs they offered to all students, but what drew me here was the fashion major. Their classes were notorious for the amount of work that went into them, but they led to connections that would help later. I had started my shifts at The Viper again. Lucy had welcomed me back with a quick inspection before barking orders. The shifts at the bar were by far one of the easiest parts of my week.

Blair and Eden were determined to drag me to multiple back to school functions when I wasn't at work. I relented a little, letting them drag me to different clubs. However, I drew the line at the bonfire the school was planning for the beginning of a week-long event called Rush Week. I tell Blair I want a quiet night where I lay on the couch. That was why I was alone in the apartment for the first time.

This leads me to my peaceful evening where I was sitting on the couch, cartons of Chinese food sitting on the table. Most are empty after I after gorging myself. With a full belly, I was making a ton of progress, the beginning of a fashion suit was on my mind. Curves and certain shapes raced through my mind as I drag my pencil against the light paper.

The idea of having Blair model it for me races through my mind when suddenly, I hear an ungodly buzz go through the entire apartment. I jump, my hands flying to my chest as if to still my racing heart. I almost reach for a pillow as a weapon when it sounds again.

Abandoning my spot on the couch, it takes me a few seconds to realize it was just the horrific doorbell. A loud, jarring, ugly doorbell. I hadn't heard it yet because we had yet to have visitors. I wasn't counting Eden, who was more like a leech on our couch. Not expecting visitors and knowing most of my friends are taking part at the beginning of Rush week, I slowly make my way towards the door.

The doorbell went off again, impatiently waiting for me to respond. It took me a minute to find the screen. These apartments were high-end and allowed video of who was trying to buzz into your apartment, and when I first saw the screen in the wall, I told Blair that it was hers to deal with. It seemed like I would be the first to deal with it. It took me to press a few different buttons and a distressing amount of beeping before an image popped up onto the screen. It showed a grainy image of the main outside entrance of the building.

My eyes scan the screen for a few seconds and I take in a tall person, with slightly frizzy hair and an irritated expression. There stands the Colby daughter, bundled up in a light pink blazer and skirt while wearing a button-down and a fuzzy scarf around her neck. She visibly shivers on the camera.

I click the buzzer and ask, "Hello?" Even though I know who it is. It seems like I couldn't escape the talk of her and her brother. They have been the talk of the entire campus. It was like they were celebrities among celebrities. She startles before looking at the monitor. She looks around as if she's unsure where the voice was coming from.

She speaks, her voice ringing through my suite, "Hello," I'm taken back by the southern twang but she keeps going, "I'm sorry for bothering you but my name is Vanessa Colby. I'm in suite 1267," She says to my astonishment.

My head whips towards my door and I stare at it as if I can stare through the wood and at my neighbor's door. Vanessa's door, apparently. What were the odds? I turn my attention back to the monitor. Vanessa smiles sweetly at the camera, "I forgot my key card when I ran to pick up a package. Do you think you could let me in?"

I wince slightly. Recently the building management had sent out a welcoming email saying that the buzzing system was down till further notice. A slight inconvenience that meant that you had to go down and open the door for anyone without a key card. "Of course. I'll come down and let you in." I agree quickly.

I take a second to marvel at the coincidence. In those few seconds, I vow Eden can never find out Vanessa lives close to me, or he'll never leave our apartment. I move fast, knowing what it felt like to have forgotten your key-card. I'm grabbing my keys and a sweater to pull over my body. I quickly head down the elevator. It was a quick ride.

Round the corner into the lobby, I can see Vanessa through the clear glass and see her arms wrapped around herself. On the ground are two gigantic boxes. Vanessa's eyes snag on me as I jog up to the door, pushing it open with ease. Vanessa distractedly bends down and drags the two boxes across the floor and into the building.

I pull the door closed behind her as she turns towards me with a smile. In that second, I realized, if I thought she was pretty from a distance, she was painfully beautiful to look at up close. Her nose was tinted pink from the cold and her shoulders continue to tremor as the warmth of the building penetrates the late chill. Her hair wasn't a dark brown but a light almond color and thick. Her cheekbones are defined on her face. The glasses on her face surround her small dark lashes. Her wide eyes are brown, not brown like a nut, but more like wet sand. Holy s**t. My chest constricts tightly at her beauty.

Vanessa's eyes run over me in return before looking into my eyes. For a few seconds, we just stare at each other. I'm distantly aware of my heart pounding in my chest and resist the urge to pull at my sweater. I'm more aware of the large sweater that comes down to my thighs than I care to admit. It must take only a second, but it feels like years before I hear her speak.

"Thank you so much. I'd be trapped outside if it wasn't for you," Vanessa smiles politely before sticking her hand out towards mine. "Vanessa Colby." Her voice is low, and yet I immediately hear the southern twang in her voice. It's more subtle than what you see in movies, but I can't help but be fascinated by it, since I grew up in California.

I stared at her hand for a second before grabbing hers in mine. Even her hands are soft as silk. I shook her hand firmly before hitching the side of my mouth up. "Jamie Sinclair," I introduce. I try not to be aware of the fact that I feel out-of-place being so close to her.

I was wearing a navy blue sweater that showed off the straps of my bra and only came down to my upper thigh. Of course, I had been lounging comfortably at home, so I shouldn't feel any shame in it. However, she looks like she just walked out of a Home magazine in comparison. I'm aware of the graphite stains on my hands. I just prayed there wasn't a grease spot on me from dinner.

I smack myself mentally before dropping her hand. Vanessa mindlessly raises her hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear.

Vanessa sniffs, "Thank you again. My roommate went to the bonfire tonight, so who knows when he would have gotten back."

"You don't have to thank me, but you're welcome," I say. Something tells me she won't take that as an answer. "Wouldn't be the first time someone forgot their keycard."

Vanessa lightly groans, "I'm not used to all the changes yet. I'm newly transferred if you couldn't tell," She lightly chuckles.

"Let me be one of the first to greet you. I hope you enjoy it here," I offer to her and I mean it. It would suck if her family went through all the trouble to get her in, and she ended up hating it.

"I believe I will. They have good courses for my major while protecting privacy," She ventures. It weirdly sounds similar to the brochures I had seen lying around campus and online.

Vanessa bends down, and with a heavy breath, lifts the top boxes into her arms. The two boxes are bigger than her torso and when stacked, almost block her view. It must have been a feat just getting these back to the apartment complex. She stumbles back a few steps as she accepts all the weight.

"You need help with that?" I step forward readily. From the way she was wincing, it was clear she needed the help. However, Vanessa jerks out of my reach, sending the box on the top wobbling.

"Oh no! Don't worry about it. You've done so much already," She flashes a polite smile at me from behind cardboard. I lead the way to the elevator, making sure she doesn't run into anything. Vanessa trails behind me slowly but surely, her feet slapping against the tiles.

I reach forward to call for the elevator, watching as the numbers lower towards us. For a few moments, we hear nothing but silence in the lobby. The fact that we are acquaintances, with nothing to talk about, made the silence slightly awkward. I'm grateful when the doors ping open and prepare to return to my sketching, instead of pretending I don't notice Vanessa's eyes dart towards me for the second time. I let her go in first. Vanessa heaves the boxes up and they wobble dangerously as she walks. I follow her, pressing the twelfth-floor button. It's when the doors slide shut that it all goes to hell.

Vanessa shifts her grip on the boxes that keep sliding down her arms. My eyebrows furrow as she struggles to regain her grip. The wobbling tower looks as if it's going to topple. I can't take the sight of it anymore. "Let me help," I offer as I reach for the wobbling box at the top. It just makes more sense for me to help her than to watch as they tumble to the ground. Consider it a neighborly duty or sympathy for the way her arms were shaking.

"No, it's fine," Vanesa denies, but it was too late. I was reaching for the box when she turned towards me. However, she miscalculates the distance between us because when she turns to me, the heavy box goes slamming into my nose. With a cry, I rear back, seeing nothing but black and stars. It's almost comical how hard the box ran into my face.

I stumble back from her in the tiny area. Vanessa, realizing what happened, gasps as her eyes widen with horror. I'm busy trying to remember what it felt like to breathe properly.

"I'm so sorry," Vanessa gasps. She reaches towards me, to do what I'm not sure, but her already slipping grip weakened with one hand. As if the cherry on the top, the heavy boxes slip from her arms and fall directly onto my foot was still in her war zone.

"Jesus f*****g Christ," I gasp as my foot throbs. I crouch to the floor, not knowing if I should grab my face or my foot. Vanessa stands looking over at me, horrified about all the actions that had transpired in less than a minute. It's only when the elevator cruises to a stop does she come unstuck.

She's pale as she rushes over to hover over me, unsure of how to make it better, "Are you alright?"

I can't stop my snort at her question. My foot was throbbing, and I had just lost one of the five senses. "Yes. I get my nose bashed every other Saturday. This is nothing," I allow myself to be cranky in my response. I tentatively poke at my sore nose, hissing when a pulse goes through it.

Vanessa rears back a bit at the sarcasm, her eyes narrowing slightly on my frame. "I told you I didn't need help," Her tone is accusatory. To my surprise, her eyes narrow on me. The look you give someone when they bump into you and don't apologize. Yet, I was the one with a throbbing nose.

"Are you insinuating it's my fault that the box ran into my face?" I ask incredulously. I haul myself up, using the railing on the wall. I feel the telltale signs of heat rushing to my head.

"It wouldn't have tipped if you didn't try to 'help,'" Vanessa uses air quotes around her defensive words. I scoffed loudly from where I was standing. We both knew that the boxes were going to fall. Vanessa glared over at me and I glared right back.

"I'm confused, is this the Southern way of apologizing for hitting someone in the face with a box," My tone is polite but the words bite, "Because I have to say, I'm not the biggest fan,"

"No, it's the Southern way of saying it's not my fault, so I shouldn't have to apologize," Vanessa's nose enters the air, "I had it under control."

I was seeing something new about Vanessa Colby. She dressed properly in silk outfits and was a control freak who didn't want to accept help. I wouldn't be surprised if a stick lived firmly up her butt. I throw my hands in the air. Without another word, I skirt around the abandoned boxes on the ground. I almost curse at them but decide they weren't the culprit. Their owner was.

I leave the elevator, not looking in Vanessa's direction, and stalk down the hall. It would be just my luck that I had tried to help a new transfer, and it resulted in a battered nose and my limping.