Over the Fence Box Set

by Aarons, Carrie

  Come to think of it, he’s been one of the few people in my life who I can count on and open up to.

  “Will you put that Amur down? Her mother will not sniff anywhere near her with your stench on her.”

  I turn away from the detached tone, taking Dorothy with me as I stalk away from the spot.

  “Kelsey Elizabeth!”

  I stop dead in my tracks. Dorothy protests, squirming around in my arms from the lack of motion. I set her down and nuzzle her head before she runs off to attack dirt balls.

  They can’t both be here, right?

  My body moves in slow-motion as I come face-to-face with Hugo and Madeline. Otherwise known as my parents.

  “How did you find me?”

  My mother purses her nude lips, adjusting the simple white button-down and standing the appropriate two feet away from her husband. A title that they only respected by its legal terms.

  “Really, Kelsey? You’re a state away from home, on our preservation. You didn’t think one of the staff would have informed us of that?”

  My father’s hands clench and unclench, his eyes roaming over every inch of the preserve. Every inch which he owns. Landing everywhere except on me. I know he can’t be more bothered to be here, addressing me right now. He doesn’t give two shits about what I’ve seen, what I can never unknow. His typical uniform of slacks and utility polo are crisply ironed, his graying hair slicked back out of the way of the oblong frames sitting upon his nose. Everything about him is cold and scientific. As it has always been.

  My mother, however? At least she puts up the appearance of caring. If it is only just that, an appearance. She’s the puppet master of the two, the media darling. See, Hugo and Madeline O’Brien are the Bill Masters and Virginia Johnson of zoology and ecology. They’re scientific geniuses. The couple who put animal behavioral sciences on the map. They have a Nobel Prize to prove it. And a marriage they care nothing about and a child they want nothing to do with.

  Sometimes, I wonder if my parents only decided to give birth to me because it was another experiment, another study to undertake.

  “What do you want?”

  Jackson stands in the background, changing the water in the lion’s den. I know he’s trying hard to bite his tongue. The color in his cheeks gives him away. I haven’t told him explicitly what I witnessed in Tanzania, but he’s been around my family long enough to know that Hugo and Madeline are not what they present themselves as.

  “We need to speak about what happened in Africa.” A lock of red falls out of Madeline’s perfectly slicked back bun. My mother is nothing if not efficient. Her usual uniform of a white button-down and khaki utility pencil skirt are more perfectly steamed than my father’s outfit. I have her auburn hair and hazel eyes, but that’s about where the similarities stop.

  “It would behoove you not to take this to the media, Kelsey. This is also your future we are talking about here.” She flicks a nonexistent piece of dirt off of her skirt.

  A chuckle explodes out of my throat. “You actually think I would talk to the press? Jesus, you’re fucking delusional.”

  “Language, Kelsey Elizabeth. Please. Why can’t you just act properly for once in your life?” Madeline scolds me, looking around to see if anyone heard me curse.

  I’m not getting into this fight again. Because I have spirit? Passion? Because I love animals and the Earth instead of treating them like science experiments? I’ve tried to explain too many times.

  So, instead, I turn on my heel and stomp through the dirt, my gauzy gypsy skirt floating around me as I go. The dirt packs into my sandals and I relish the feeling of the earth on my feet.

  The last thing I hear before I slam the door to my red Jetta is my father’s chilling voice. “Don’t forget who lets you play the animal lover. Who funds your love.”

  3

  Clint

  sassanimal10: Okay, how the hell are you still beating me in Words With Friends? I thought jocks were dumb.

  catchmydrift: Well, technically I am dumb. But HA is a word in that stupid game, so of course, I’m winning. You can’t play by the rules, Roo.

  sassanimal10: You’re telling this to the girl who threw the rule book out the window …

  catchmydrift: Yeah, yeah. We get it, you’re a nomad. When do you think you’ll be coming back this way, gypsy girl?

  sassanimal10: Not sure, I’m loving being at the preservation here in Africa. It would be hard to get away now. We have this new baby elephant, the mother just gave birth two days ago. It’s amazing watching him, they named him Theo. Just watching him learn his body, the world, the hierarchy among his herd.

  catchmydrift: That sounds awesome. You really love it, huh?

  sassanimal10: More than myself. So enough about me, although I know you love hearing about moi … What’s going on at that shitshow house of yours?

  catchmydrift: Well, not sure what she’s told you, but pretty sure Miles and Chloe are hooking up. And Minka and Owen are basically married. And Parker is always MIA. Per usual. It’s just little old lonely me …

  sassanimal10: I knew him and Chlo were boning! I just knew it. God, I hope she’s finally getting some great sex. And shut up. Little is not the word I would use to describe you.

  catchmydrift: Is that a fat joke?

  sassanimal10: Or maybe it’s a dick joke

  catchmydrift: Har har. Miss your humor, Roo.

  sassanimal10: Miss you more, my friend

  I’ve been reading and re-reading our chat conversations from when Kelsey was in Africa a couple of months ago all afternoon like some thirteen-year-old middle school girl. Maybe I thought this would make me feel better about my tantrum this morning, but it’s only making me feel worse. It makes me miss how our relationship was. When it was only cyber chatting and videoing. When she wasn’t here, hooking up with guys in front of my face. But I am a glutton for punishment, so I will take seeing that and having her close by than her being a continent away.

  I didn’t mean to blow up at her or to trick her with my play on words. I just wanted to see what she would say.

  And dammit if she didn’t look like she was about to hurl chunks of Reese’s Puffs when she thought we slept together.

  There’s your answer, Clint. You asshole. I got what I wanted—a reaction. Too bad it’s the exact one to crush my already wounded heart. When I saw her face, her mouth a round O shape at the breath she inhaled, her cheeks red with shame—my stomach plummeted through the floor. It felt like someone had taken a crossbow to my heart and shot it straight through my body, where it landed as a bloody mess on the wall behind me.

  I’m pathetic. Here I am, one hundred pounds down and eating grass for every meal trying to impress a girl who clearly only sees me as her humble, funny fat friend.

  I’m not flashy. I’m not cocky. I’m not rich.

  I’m quiet. I’m down-to-earth. I would rather go to the movies or to a casual dinner with friends than party.

  I am everything Kelsey is not. Or everything she doesn’t want.

  It’s time to end this. The pining. The self-pity. The beating Kelsey up. This is my problem, and something I need to get over now. For her sake and for mine. I needed to find a nice girl, someone I can grow with and experience what it’s like to be in a relationship. Because believe it or not, just because you’re on a top tier college baseball team does not guarantee you a piece of ass every Saturday night. Especially, not when you weighed almost three hundred pounds.

  The thump of a car stereo shakes my bedroom floor, which is located closest to our driveway, and I reckon Minka and Owen are home. I haven’t left my room since I slammed into it to spite Kelsey, so I wouldn’t even know if it was nighttime at this point if I didn’t have two windows in here.

  Another loud smack and the walls shake. Whoever slammed whatever door in this house, might have just broken it off the hinges

  Ambling up from where I’m slouched in my desk chair, I throw open my door. “Hello?”

  Minka
and Owen come running out from his room, his hair a rat’s nest and her shirt on inside out. “Nice, guys. It’s like four o’clock.”

  “There is always time for—” Owen winces when Minka punches him in the arm before he can get the rest of his sentence out.

  And I’m envious that he has a girl who wants to do that with him at all hours of the day.

  I can’t contemplate that much more though, because another crash comes from the spare room on the other side of the house. And one thought runs through my brain. Kelsey.

  The three of us look at each other and then run, almost tripping over one and other in the tiny hallway. We slide through the kitchen and up to the spare room door.

  Minka throws it open. “Are you hurt?!”

  There is panic in her voice and I can see Owen physically restraining her from barging into the room. I peer through the doorway and see Kelsey, fine as wine, standing in the middle of the carpet.

  The three of us take a collective deep breath, not voicing the situation we are all inevitably running through our heads. Two weeks ago, we woke up to a screaming Kelsey. When we barged into her room, some drunk asshole was on top of her, her mouth face down in the pillow and her hands behind pinned behind her back. I almost murdered the douche bag before Owen pulled me off of him. It was one of the handful of times Kelsey had gotten in too deep since she’s been living here the last two months. Minka said she usually isn’t this bad, that yes, she has her fair share of hookups, but Kelsey usually screened the guys well. The ones she was bringing home now border on dangerous.

  “I’m fine.” She looks around the room in a crazed fashion, and that’s when I see the suitcase laid out on the bed. Kelsey starts throwing items haphazardly into the open mouth of it, not bothering to fold or sort anything. “I just have to get out of here.”

  “What? Where are you going? You just got home.” Minka steps up to her, puts a hand on Kelsey’s shoulder to rouse her from the daze she’s in.

  “My parents, they know I’m here.” Now she looks Minka in the eyes, dread and panic spreading like a rash over her beautiful pixie features.

  Minka sucks in a breath, and anxiety washes over my flesh. I can feel the toxicity in the air and I don’t even know what the problem is. It may be because I’ve gotten so used to reading Kelsey’s body language that I know whatever that sentence means, it’s causing her to run. And fast.

  “Okay, calm down. Owen, Clint can you give us some space?”

  Minka throws a cautious look our way. Owen shrugs, turning to go, knowing he’s not wanted in this situation. I, on the other hand, can’t move my feet, which are now cemented in the doorway.

  “I want to help. Kelsey knows she can talk to me.”

  Hurt mixes with the panic in her face as she finally acknowledges my presence in the room. I know she’s thinking about my outburst this morning, and I couldn’t feel more like shit right now remembering how I yelled at her.

  “Clint, please.” Minka shoots me another look, this time annoyance clouding her exotic face. One last look at Kelsey and I know she wants me gone. Fine. It only solidifies my decision to get over whatever I feel for her. She clearly doesn’t need me as her shoulder to lean on.

  * * *

  After an hour and a half of struggling to concentrate on the movie I threw on while trying to keep thoughts of Kelsey out of my brain, a soft knock comes on my door.

  “Come in.”

  My door swings open to reveal Minka, looking wiped out.

  “Hi.” She gives me a small smile.

  “What’s up?”

  “Just thought you might want an update on our girl.”

  I shrug. “Sure, whatever you want.”

  Minka eyes me, doubt and annoyance flickering in her eyes. “You’re telling me you haven’t been sitting here for an hour chewing your nails over why she was freaking out?”

  Trying to hide my anxiety and come across nonchalant, I shrug again. “Kelsey is a big girl who is going to do what she wants to do. If she doesn’t want my help, I can back off.”

  “Oh, really? That’s what you were doing last night? Backing off?”

  I sigh heavily, not wanting to get into this with anyone. Especially, Kelsey’s best friend. “What’s up, Minka?”

  She hesitates for a moment but relaxes into herself as she takes a seat on the edge of my bed across from where I sit in my desk chair. “There are some things you don’t know about Kelsey. I’m not going to get into it, because it’s not my place to tell you, but she hasn’t had an easy life. Despite what it might look like from the outside. Her parents are in town, and that’s a problem for her. She wants to run, take off again, but I bought us a few extra days. Maybe a week. This is the best place for her right now. I’m scared of what she might do if she disappears again.”

  I take a moment to process all of this.

  And decide I need to guard myself right now rather than take care of the girl who has been pushing me away, or keeping me at arm’s length from the very beginning.

  “Listen, Minka. Kelsey is my friend, and I like having her here. But I’m not sure what you’re asking me to do?”

  She doesn’t hesitate for even a minute. “You guys have a special bond, Clint. Convince her to stay here for as long as you can. She’ll listen to you.”

  “No, she won’t. She barely does now. I’m sorry, Mink, I don’t mean to put you in a tough position. But I really just can’t keep saving someone who doesn’t want the help. I have to start looking out for me.”

  That sounds bad, and inside I feel like my organs are being ripped apart, but I mean it. Or at least I have to convince myself that I do.

  Minka’s face fills with disgust. “And here I thought you were the nicest guy I knew, Clint. Jesus, selfish much? I thought you cared about Kelsey. Whatever. Thanks for nothing.”

  And with that, she storms out of the room and back into Owen’s, where she promptly slams the door.

  Great, two women under my roof are now pissed off at me. For the first time in my life, I feel like I need to get drunk. Usually, I drink at parties. Sometimes I get hammered, sometimes I chill with a beer or two. Never have I felt the intense need in my veins for a drink. For the hot burn of alcohol.

  But right now, it is exactly what I need.

  Picking up my phone, I text Parker. That asshole is never home anymore, but I need a drinking buddy and Parker is the best.

  Clint: I need a drink. Meet at Sammy’s?

  It takes a couple of seconds, but my phone dings with his response.

  Parker: On my way now.

  * * *

  “How about her?”

  Parker’s gruff voice invades the white noise swarming through my brain. I turn my head, my synapses moving slower than usual after four Jack and Cokes.

  The blonde he points out is pretty. In an obvious way. She’s got the whole big boobs, tiny skirt, hair extensions thing working for her. I’m usually not into that kind of bombshell, but tonight I’m up for anything.

  I’ve pretty much obliterated my nerves with how much alcohol is in my system, although thinking about trying to hit on a girl scares the crap out of me. These weren’t things I had to do or think about when I was heavy since no girl wanted to come near me, and now I pretty much suck at it. Last winter Parker had tried to hook me up with some baseball groupie at a party, after I lost about seventy-five pounds, and I was so nervous I spilled an entire can of beer down her shirt. I didn’t even know that was possible. If my friends knew just how inexperienced I am in the girl and dating departments, they’d laugh their asses off.

  “Sure. Let’s do it.”

  He downs the rest of his scotch on the rocks, a “gentleman’s drink” as he calls it and motions me to follow him out to the dance floor.

  The dance floor parts as we walk through it. Even with the spring semester over and the lighter summer session in full swing, Sammy’s is packed. It seems like since our class will be going into senior year, even more people have stayed at
Grover for the summer. Unlike me. I’ve decided after championships, I am done with school. I was never here for the degree or the classes anyway, and without my friends, who were all moving onto the majors, there would be nothing left here.

  While I might have been heavy the past few years, if you are on the baseball team people know who you are. You are treated differently, given things, comped for free meals at all the local restaurants. It’s a blessing and a curse. Especially, for a guy like me who doesn’t particularly want the attention.

  Parker nods to various random girls as we move through the gyrating crowd. He finally stops a couple of feet from the blonde he pointed out and her friends. Parker nods at another blonde within the dancing circle and immediately moves in behind her to start rubbing his crotch on her ass.

  I always find it so awkward to start doing that. Just going up to some random girl, grabbing her hips and essentially having sex with her through your clothes. Do they like that?

  Apparently, Parker’s girl does, because when she looks up and sees it’s him, she snuggles in closer, moving her hips even faster back and forth.

  What the hell? I’m trying new things, stepping out of my comfort zone.

  I scoot around the group, single in on the girl Parker pointed out to me, take a deep breath … and grab her hips.

  She doesn’t even flinch, as if this is a totally normal occurrence. Somewhere in the back of my brain, buried deep beneath the drunken haze, an alarm bell goes off. I don’t like this. I don’t treat women like this.

  But the thought doesn’t make it to the surface, and I move in closer to her, trying to time my rhythm to the beat of the music.

  I’ve never really danced with a girl like this. I’ve never really done a lot of things with girls.