by TC Matson
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Irrelevant information.” Such a gang-related response and I’m sure his brothers are to blame for that. “Word on the street is you took her dancing on performance corner. Even sang to her. You sound like you working too hard for it. Like a chump.”
I laugh. The difference between men and boys…
“‘Course she’s hot. A wouldn’t be with no busted-up girl, right?” That comes from Ollie.
I hate when any of the boys miss the meet, but I’ve never been more grateful for Benny’s absence. He’s my innocent seven-year-old… to a point.
“I know most of you have moms, adopted or not. What would you do if someone said she was hot or called her a ‘busted-up girl’?”
“I’d whoop their damn ass is what I’d do.” Shawn slaps the top of the table.
“But you’re doing it now.” I point out with a raised brow. The room falls silent so I toss out some advice. “No good girl is going to want to be with you if you talk and act like that. Good girls won’t put up with disrespect. She’ll drop you in the blink of an eye and you’ll end up with that busted-up girl.”
“Who says I want a relationship?” Jody asks with a scoff. “What if I just wanted to get my d—” He stops, tilts his head considering his words, and then continues, “What if a ho is all I want?”
“Ain’t no good girl gonna want to be with us,” Ollie throws his two cents in spreading his arms to the class.
“Acting like that, no. But a good girl can make you change for the better.”
“That why you actin’ like a chump? ‘Cause she’s a good girl?” Shawn asks.
Kenlyn’s definitely a good girl. And the more I’m around her, the more I realize how I need to call off what we have going on. I catch glimpses of emotions in her eyes—the same ones I’m feeling. It’s dangerous, outside of the realm of casual. But for the damn life of me, I don’t want to walk away, even though I need to.
Checking the time, I drop the subject. “Put your stuff away. Time’s almost up and the bus will be here shortly. This week’s challenge: try to be more respectful to everyone around you.”
After everyone cleans up their supplies and starts piling out of the door, Ollie walks up beside me keeping his head down. “You think you could give me a lift?”
Cody tips his chin as he strolls out the door. It’s his silent signal that it’s good with him.
“Yeah.”
We stay behind until the bus leaves before making our way to my truck and buckling up.
“Everything good?” I pull off the curb and onto the road.
He stares out the window, his face neutral. “They love each other. Heard them say it the other night.”
“Who?” I know who, but I need him opening up a bit.
“Mom and Henry. Overheard them talking about moving.”
“How do you feel about that?”
He gives a noncommittal shrug without looking away from the scene playing out beyond the window.
“You like him? Is he good to you?”
Another shrug. “He’s alright, I guess.”
“What are you worried about?”
“My pops.”
“Your dad’s in prison for a long time, Ollie. Life doesn’t stop. And you don’t stop loving him either. He knows that,” I tell him.
“I feel wrong for liking Henry.”
“You like me and don’t feel bad, right?”
His eyes roll to me. “You ain’t fucking my moms either.”
“Dude,” I breathe my reprimand. His eyes move back to the window. “Talk to your mom and tell her how you feel. She’s your best friend and your protector. Trust her and talk to her.”
“You talk to your mom like that?”
I swallow hard as I park in front of his house. The truck is silent for a few moments. Mom made it easy to talk to her. I could tell her anything and I knew she’d never judge me. Only smother me with her love. “I used to. All the time.”
This gets his attention. “Why used to? You have a fallin’ out?”
My tongue feels swollen in my desert-dry mouth. I shake my head. “No falling out. She and the rest of my family died in a bad car wreck.” My therapist would be proud of me for saying it out loud. Normally the words get stuck in my throat.
Ollie’s little eyes go wide. “Yo, A. Seriously?”
I nod.
“You’re an orphan?”
“Twice over. My birth parents dumped me off on some church steps. Then I was adopted by amazing people. I couldn’t ask for better parents. Even had an amazingly annoying sister.”
He stares at me, his eyes narrowing as his eyebrows pinch together. “How do you smile?”
I blow a laugh under my breath. “It took me six long months to claw out of a dark hole. I couldn’t toss everything away that my parents taught me just because they’re not here. Plus, my dad would whoop my ass if he knew I was ruining the second chance they gave me.”
He nods, falling silent. It’s a heavy story. I know.
“You’ve got a second chance, Ollie. Just because my family is gone doesn’t mean I don’t love them. Talk to your mom about how you’re feeling. Swear it won’t make you any less of a man.”
“Yeah. Alright.”
He reaches for the handle and pops it open.
“Do me another favor?” I stop him and pause until he looks back at me. “Watch your mouth.”
He smirks. “I ain’t making promises, A, but I’ll try.”
I watch until he’s inside before I head off to Kenlyn’s for our date. Yeah. A date. I’m a glutton for punishment. I shouldn’t be spending any more time with her. I should call it off. Call me selfish because I’m not ready yet.
Chapter Nineteen
Ash stretches his hands to the top of the door frame, which causes his black t-shirt to raise a little, showing off a hint of skin and the beginning of his happy trail. It’s insane how just that small peek gives me a warm shudder.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late. I had a few things I needed to finish up.”
“If you’re tired, we don’t have to go out.” It’s seven forty-five. I almost laugh at myself.
“Are you trying to get out of it?” he asks with humor lighting up the blue in his eyes.
“Not at all.”
Twenty minutes later amid idle talk about our days, he pulls into a parking lot of an industrial building and moves around to the front to park.
LaserX.
I snort, looking to him. “For our date, we’re shooting each other?”
The boyish grin he gives me before sliding out of his truck makes my heart flutter. It’s been doing that a lot lately. I’m playing with fire trying to convince myself I can do casual without feelings. It’s untrue. I’m already too far in without a way to stop it.
Our mission—shoot the red team’s “home” box on the other side of the building without getting shot in the process and “dying.” We were told their home base can be anywhere on the bottom or top floors, either in the light or dark. Fabulous hints.
Our team is made up of six people—Ash, me, and four other strangers who seem like they’re taking this a little too seriously and saying things like tactical, strategic, and hardcore. I’ve never been more grateful for Chris and his annoying friends. When he was younger, he loved Nerf and we’d battle a lot. Doesn’t matter what age you are. If someone hands you a Nerf gun, you blast your way through to the other side. I’m using that strategic approach in this.
The instructor opens the metal doors and our team steps into the dark arena with black lights illuminating the neon colors.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I whisper to myself.
Ash chuckles behind me.
“You better be glad you’re on my team or I’d shoot you for making me have this type of pressure anxiety.”
This time he laughs just as the countdown blares over the speakers above us. As it hits one, the voice is replaced with loud music—the type yo
u hear during a movie when you know something is about to happen but you’re not sure what. Yeah. That. I’m expecting a serial killer to pop out from around the corner at any time.
My pulse hammers as we disperse. I feel like I’m moving on rubbery legs, shaking as I edge through the darkness. I can’t hear a damn sound, no thanks to the music and my racing heart that’s probably moved into the cardiac arrest danger zone.
Anticipation claws at the back of my neck. My entire body tingles from fear. I loathe the feeling of waiting for someone to jump out in front of me. It’s why I don’t do haunted trails. I’m not fond of fear.
Movement in front of me catches my attention and I slink back into the corner. It takes only a second to register the red on their backpack. Lifting my laser gun, I shoot and his vest lights up before he scurries away to get back to his base and respawn back to life.
Point one for me. Unscathed.
“Good shot.”
I yelp, jumping and whipping my gun around, but I don’t pull the trigger. “You can’t sneak up on me like that,” I whisper-hiss breathlessly at Ash. “Dammit.” I clutch my chest. This is it. This is how I’m going to die.
Laughter is in his eyes, but he doesn’t make a sound. “Isn’t sneaking up part of all this?”
“Yes, but heart attacks aren’t.”
This time he laughs. “Come on. Let’s take the red team down.”
He leads, his gun sweeping from side to side as he looks around, and I cover, mainly while staring at his ass. See? The battlefield is no place for me.
We move through the black walls until there’s a split with stairs leading into the light and a tunnel leading to more darkness.
“Which way?” he asks.
Like I’m supposed to know. “Um. Up?”
He nods, moving to the side and following me as I cautiously climb the stairs. This would be a good ambush spot. It’s vulnerable. When I hit the top of the platform and my eyes have adjusted to the light, I realize I’m alone. Ash didn’t follow me. Great. I’m going to die solo.
A red member slips past a small opening to my left and I drop to my knee, lift my gun, and follow where I think they’ll appear. It’s something Chris taught me once. A few feet later and in front of a small window, I spot him. I take the shot, hitting him. He lights up like a Christmas tree and drops his gun, walking away
Point two for me. Thank you, Chris.
I move across the area and hide behind a wooden crate. So much anxiety is eating at me, I feel like I’m a ticking time bomb about to explode. I’ve felt this before. Once Chris set up an obstacle course in the backyard, decked out with pallets, crates, boxes, camouflage net looking stuff, and everything else you can think of. We had the entire neighborhood, kids and the adults, participating in an all-out Nerf war to grab the opposing team’s flag, wherever the hell it was. It is one of the best memories I have from my childhood. He might have been seven years younger than me, but I loved playing with him.
Slowly, I peek around the crate to see if the coast is clear. It’s not. It’s sooo not. Three red team members are moving in on me. What the hell would Chris do? He’d stand up and shoot his way out or die trying. Me? I think I need to pee. Quickly, I chance another glance and instantly know I’m in trouble. They know I’m here and they’re going to take me out.
Breathe. It’s only a game. How the hell do soldiers do this? It’s fake, but pee is threatening my legs, and my heart is about to implode on itself. Are tears allowed in this game?
A burst of blinking red lights flash on the wall in front of me and I hear someone say “shit.” Peeking, I see his vest lit up as he walks off. He’s been shot, but his two other friends have disappeared. I look between the barrels and pallets and spot the tip of a sneaker, giving away his location. But his friend is somewhere.
Resting my back against the wood, I take a deep breath to try and calm the feeling that I’m about to face my maker. He’s out there, stalking me like a ninja and although I can feel him, I can’t see him. I pop up on the tip of my toes, keeping my head below the surface, and bounce a few times psyching myself up to look for an escape.
Off to my left is a black hideout where my back will be at the wall and the area in front of me at every angle. I need to make a run for it. I can do this. I lunge toward it, my bladder tightening, but I slip and fall flat on my face. Fear coursing through me, I jerk to the side and shoot the guy who appears from behind the crate before he can shoot me.
Scrambling to get to my feet again, I watch a red laser light move across the floor toward me, crawl up my legs, and pause on my chest. I have no clue where it’s coming from. I can’t see the other guy, but clearly, he sees me and enjoys toying with me. This is it. Exhaling, I close my eyes and accept.
Suddenly the lights flicker on, blue strobes whipping around the floors and walls.
“Blue team has conquered red team’s home base.”
And before I can pee myself or die, the game is over.
Holy shit, I really need to pee. My nervous bladder is stomping its feet.
Ash is at our home base, leaning against the makeshift door watching me with a grin when I make my way back. He no longer has the vest on. His arms are across his chest, his smirk sexy as ever, and his eyes are lit up.
“You abandoned me to die alone,” I quip, biting my lip to hide my laugh.
His tongue peeks out and sweeps over his bottom lip. “I had your back.”
I cock my head, placing a hand on my hip. “I was cornered. Facing death by myself.”
His laugh is deep and rumbly. He turns me by my shoulders, unfastens the vest, and moves his chest to my back before brushing his lips over my ear. Goosebumps start at my neck and fall down to my legs. “You weren’t alone.”
I scoff, playfully.
Gently he kisses the back of my neck and my eyes flutter closed. “Then there were two…”
Sucking in a breath, I turn to face him and his shit-eating grin. “Did you—Were you—How’d you know?”
He winks when he grabs my stuff and places it on the designated hooks. We get our personal items out of our locker and start toward the exit. His shit-eating grin never wavers. As he opens his truck door, I grab him by the shirt and pull him down to my face.
“Did you shoot him?”
“They were closing in on my girl.” His eyes flash at his words and an emotion I can’t register crosses his expression. “I was working on the other two.” He places a quick kiss to my lips. “Get in.”
Chapter Twenty
I called her my girl. Those two words have swirled around my mind for days since I said them. My girl. They slipped but once they were out, I didn’t want to take them back. I couldn’t. Even though I know I gave her the wrong impression, the words tasted good across my tongue. But it ruined my plans to take her back to her place and ravish her body. Instead, I clammed up and called it a night. I kissed her goodnight at her door and walked away from the confusion in her eyes with heavy feet.
I’m fucked and it’s time to walk away.
“Alright, lover boy. Fill me in.” Fay beams as she drops onto the stool in the corner of my workspace. “And don’t give me the ‘I’m having fun’ shit. I need details. Spill it.”
Letting out a sigh, I cross my ankle over my knee and toss the magazine I wasn’t reading on the table. “And what exactly do you want me to share with you?”
She rubs her hands together and bites her lip. “All of it. She’s got your attention. Are you casual or exclusive?”
My girl. Those words again… They make me feel like I’m drowning. “Haven’t discussed it.” My tone is curt.
“Well, seeing as you haven’t had a flavor of the week since you planted one on her in front of her shitty boyfriend, I’m leaning toward exclusive. But… you really like her and you’re scared because you have the stupid fear she’ll be ripped away from you so you haven’t labeled it. Am I close?”
About two years ago, Fay and Luna invited me over to their plac
e for a get-together and I ended up drinking one too many, no thanks to Fay shoving shots down my throat. I ended up spilling my secrets to them. They know everything, from beginning to end, but they’ve never judged me, never held it against me, and they don’t look at me with pity. That’s when Fay inserted herself into my life and started acting like my little sister. I love the girl, Luna too.
“Yeah. She’s cool.” I admit.
“Cool?” she says around a laugh. “Are we in middle school?”
Becoming impatient and rather anxious about where she’s trying to take this conversation, I shift with a sigh.
“Talk. It’s just us. No one is here.”
“I appreciate the little sister role you take up, but I’m not about to have a solid heart to heart with you. I’m good.”
“Your good is equivalent to our fine.”
“Drop it, Fay.”
“Have you told her how you feel about her yet?” she continues to prod.
“No. I haven’t told her a single fucking thing including that I don’t want to see her anymore,” I snap, pissed at myself because I do like her a whole helluva lot.
Her lips shape an O and her head recoils. “You what? Ash...” Fucking sympathy in her voice grates my spine. “You can’t run because you like her.”
“The hell I can’t,” I bite. “Too close, Fay. I’m too close and she’ll be gone like everything else. I can’t handle it.” I shove to my feet. “I can’t deal with that shit.”
She’s on her feet and in front of me. “You,” poke to my chest, “are not going to run from her.” Poke. “You’re finally allowing yourself to feel and you’re scared. I get it. Feelings are scary and love is terrifying.”
I grip her hand before she can jab her bony finger into my chest again. “I’m not in love with her.” Lies. And the feeling sucks.
“So it’s okay for another man to sweep her off her feet? For him to wine and dine her? Put his mouth on her as he’s fu—”
“Stop,” I growl through my teeth, falling right into her damn trap.
