“What the hell?” I mumble, just to hear Bailey’s voice shouting again somewhere close by. “Get away from her, you asshole! I’m going to call the cops on you!”
“Chill out. She’s just drunk, that’s all.” Carter’s voice oozes like slime above me.
I groan, but thankfully, Bailey intervenes.
“She had one drink, you asshole! You attacked her! Go the fuck away!”
Suddenly, I remember what happened: the kiss, my resistance, and, finally, him pushing me hard enough that I fell backwards and down. I must have hit my head on the deck railing. I try to open my eyes again, and wince at the effort, but at least my eyes open a crack.
That dream was so wild… That dream about…
It fades again before I can grasp at it.
“Bailey,” I mutter, slowly raising myself to a seated position, and she’s at my side immediately, her round face pale with fear.
“Kara, are you okay?” She fumbles with a stack of napkins in her hands and I see that her hands are shaking. I wince. Jesus, I must look really bad.
“Of course she’s okay,” Carter snaps, but his voice has a fearful edge to it.
As Bailey gingerly presses some napkins to my head, I notice that a small crowd of whispering people has gathered around us. Carter is stuck in the center. Suddenly, he tries to push past and make his escape, but a beefier guy shoves him back into the circle.
“What happened?” someone asks.
“That guy hit her!” someone else says.
“I did not!” Carter yells. “She fell back on her own.”
“No, I saw you,” a girl says, pointing an accusing finger at him.
This is all too much for me. I start to shake, and Bailey wraps me tightly in her arms, no doubt staring daggers at Carter.
“Let him go,” Bailey says to the crowd at large. “My friend just suffered a lot of trauma, okay? But if anyone wants to chase him and show him who’s boss, I won’t stop you.”
Carter elbows his way through the crowd and takes off. I immediately relax when he’s out of my presence. Another three men peel out of the circle, and then, I hear some shouting in the distance, Carter’s voice among them. Good, I think, swaying a little. Maybe he’ll get beat up or expelled, or both, and I’ll never have to see him again.
“Kara,” Bailey says again, and I realize that I had closed my eyes. The beginnings of full-blown panic seize me. Do I have a concussion?
“I’m okay,” I mutter, waving a hand fruitlessly around.
“She should see a doctor,” someone says, and there’s murmured assent from the others. Bailey and another girl help me slowly to my feet; someone else presses a bottle of water into my hands. The world swirls around me with every beat of my heart, which drives another nail of pain into my head each time.
“Head wounds just bleed a lot,” I mumble, taking a sip of water. “I’m fine, I swear.”
But Bailey shakes her head.
“They’re right,” she says, in the tone of voice which means that her mind is made up. “Let’s get you to my car. My dad is working a rotation in the ER tonight. He’ll help you out.”
I nod feebly, and lean on her as we slowly walk back to her car. It’s only when we’re on our way to the hospital that I fully register what’s happening. Instantly, my mind clears, and my eyes are wide on the dark road ahead of us.
If Bailey’s dad, Rick, is working, I guess I’ll be seeing my Mr. Right tonight after all, and not just in my dreams.
After all, I’ve known Bailey since we were kids, and Rick has been a constant fixture in my life. He’s always been nothing but kind, respectful, and sometimes silly, unafraid to do anything to earn a laugh from his daughter and her friends. As a child, he made me feel safe, and I always enjoyed his presence.
As I got a little older, though, I began to notice new facets of Rick. His warm brown eyes, like Bailey’s, but with sparkling gold rings around the pupils. The way his silver-speckled chestnut hair curls the tiniest bit. How well he takes care of his body. It was increasingly apparent that I was incredibly attracted to my best friend’s dad. However, there was no way I was ever going to let him--or Bailey--know. Surely, I could find a romantic interest that was my own age, and who hasn’t known me since I was in pigtails.
Still, I haven’t been able to shake Rick from my heart. His presence always lurks at the edge of my mind, and none of the adolescent boys at college compare. At all. Plus, the firm knowledge that he’s my Mr. Right won’t go away, either, no matter how many well-meaning boys I talk to. It’s just not the same.