by Vi Lily
Me: do you know what part of oak place?
That’s the gated community we live in. From what I’d gathered, it’s the place to live in our town. It’s weird to think that someone who looks like she needs a handout or a hand up is living in a mansion. I’m starting to think she’s some kind of rich rebel, which makes me want to get to know her.
Aleen: around the corner from my house, on elm dr
Me: i live in OP too, on chestnut
Aleen: lol cool we’re neighbors
Me: lol
Mr. Nguyen decides to start class then, so I put my phone away and try to put away my curiosity about Ari.
Since our parents had driven us that morning, Rod and I are supposed to wait for them in front of the school. I’m all alone near the school’s fountain in the center of the circular drive, scrolling through my playlist to find something to listen to when I get a text notification. It’s a group text to me and my mother from Rod.
Rod: gonna hang wit sum frends. ill geta ride
I roll my eyes at my brother’s crappy spelling and lazy texting. I figure he’s in no danger of becoming a writer. In fact, other than sports, I have no idea what he is interested in. We’re only a year apart in age, but we we’re miles apart in interests. In fact, we barely tolerate each other. I have him listed in my contacts as “Pita.”
“Pita?” I jump when Ben’s deep voice washes over me as a hard arm goes around my shoulders. I'd assumed when I first laid eyes on him that there was a whole lot of muscle tone causing that hardness, but it’s difficult to tell with the uniform jacket hiding it. I wonder what he looks like under that jacket, if his arms are super muscular, if he has any tattoos…
I freaking love tattoos.
In an effort to hide my ridiculous attraction to the guy, I scowl up at him. Of course, he just grins back, like he thinks my anger is cute.
“Pita — Pain In The Ass, if you must know. My brother. I’ll have to come up with something else for your contact name since that one’s taken.” I cock an eyebrow at him.
Ben laughs and then thinks for a minute. “How about ‘BUNS’ — Boyfriend Until Next Summer?” He glances toward his butt, which is perfectly shaped, by the way.
“Serves two purposes that way,” he drawls with another grin.
I snort-laugh and grin at him while I ask, “Until next summer?” I’m more curious about the “boyfriend” comment, but that would be weird to talk about since we barely met a few hours ago.
Ben grins down at me and I find myself staring at his adorable tooth gap. “Yeah, figure we’ll go out through high school, then when we graduate, we’ll get married.”
My mouth drops open as I bark out a laugh at his ridiculous comment — even though I was harboring that freaking fantasy all day. Already got the honeymoon planned buddy.
His arm tightens around my shoulders then and I try not to be too obvious that I’m sniffing him. He smells seriously good. But when I don’t say anything about his crazy comment — cuz, seriously, what do you say to something like that? — he drops his arm from my shoulders and steps back. I miss his closeness right away.
“Why are you out here in the cold?”
“Cold” is right — since we’d moved here just a week before, I’ve been freezing. My California blood is not liking the dampness of the New England winter. I shrug, but it’s more to bring my heavy wool coat up around my neck than anything else. His comment reminds me of how biting the wind is.
“Waiting on my parents,” I say as I glance down the school’s long driveway. There’s still no sign of them. I sigh as a shiver goes through me.
“Guess I might as well go back inside though.”
Without a word, Ben tosses his arm over my shoulders again and turns me. I don’t protest his touchiness; in fact, I lean into his heat, welcoming it.
“So,” he says as we walk up the steps to the front door, “Friday night? You never answered me.” His voice makes my whole body vibrate. Or it might be from nervous tremors. Maybe a combination.
He reaches out and opens the door before I can and I smile at the small act of chivalry. Some girls — mostly the feminazis — get all bent over stuff like that. Me? I love it. Treat me like a princess any day. Well, a princess who can kick your butt maybe.
Not Ben though. There is no way I would ever be able to kick his butt. Hell, a pissed off hockey team wouldn’t be able to kick his butt. The dude is freakishly huge.
Yeah, I know I said that before. But seriously, he’s probably bigger than Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Well, at least in height.
I want to wait until we get inside the warmth before I answer him. I’m shivering and this time I know it isn’t because of Ben, but my Pacific coast blood is fighting the effects of the ice trying to form in my veins.
“Damn, it’s c-c-c-cold,” I chatter and Ben smirks.
“Surfer girl blood, huh?” he says, practically reading my mind. I laugh and shiver again.
“S-s-s-something like that.” I’ve never been surfing in my life.
He frowns with what I’m pretty sure is concern. “Here,” he says as he opens his big wool coat. At first, I think he’s going to offer it to me, but I realize he’s offering his warmth, which is way better. It takes about half a nanosecond for me to step into him and let him wrap me up.
I may or may not have moaned then. Being wrapped up in Ben’s big body, his warmth surrounding me, is seriously amazing. He smells even better close up and I take deep breaths. And yeah, he’s hard all over. Well, his body is… I mean, his muscles.
I don’t want to think where else he might be hard. Okay, so I do, but I’ll save those thoughts for a private moment. Preferably in my shower.
“Better?” he murmurs into my hair after a few moments. I have to blink myself back to reality after the Ben fog he’s put me in. I feel my cheeks heat and reluctantly step back. I feel like an idiot, clinging to him like a koala baby. But then I remind myself that he did offer his warmth.
“Yeah. Thanks.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, a nervous habit. It’s also kind of stupid to do, since I’m wearing a knit beanie and my hair isn’t going anywhere.
Ben grins at me. “Anytime you wanna share my body… I mean, my heat, of course,” he corrects with a wink, “you just lemme know.”
My cheeks heat even further with his words and I laugh in embarrassment. “So —” I have to clear my throat, since that word comes out in a croak, “um, Friday night?”
His grin widens and I once again think how the little gap in his teeth adds immensely to his appeal. “Yeah?”
“I, um, have to ask my parents, but I’m sure it’ll be okay.” I can’t believe I’m agreeing to go on a date with a guy I just met this morning, something I absolutely never would have done in my previous life. But something tells me that I can trust Ben Penn.
Of course, that might have just been my hormones pushing me to make stupid choices because the hottie of all hotties apparently is interested in me. I’m starting to think my hormones are some seriously slutty hoes.
“Well, you have my number now, so lemme know.” He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and looks at the time.
“Damn, I gotta go. My dad is gonna have my head if I’m not in the gym in like five minutes.”
I frown at that, wanting to ask him more, like why does he need to be in the gym now? As far as I know, there aren’t any sports going on this time of year, except for indoor track, and I only know that because Rod is going to be on the team. He didn’t even have to try out — the coach had taken one look at his race times and meet performances in California and signed him up.
“Okay,” I say instead, pushing aside my questions for another time. “I’ll see ya later.”
He grins again, then leans down and gives me a kiss. It’s just on the cheek, but still… my heartrate shoots up into the danger level.
“Bye, Tink,” he calls as he trots off down the hall. I roll my eyes at the nickname and make a mental note to tell him
the next time I see him to knock off the pixie references. I’m not that short.
A few minutes later I notice the Mercedes sitting out front and hurry to walk out, just as I feel my phone vibrate with a text alert. I know it’s my mom, so I don’t bother looking at it as I go outside and jump in the SUV.
“Dang, it’s cold out,” I grumble as I buckle up. “I was waiting out here like you said, but I was freezing.”
My mom looks over at me. “Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon.” She frowns then.
“You really need to quit complaining about everything.” Wow. Um, okay, mental note: Don’t say anything negative to Mom about anything. Got it.
She doesn’t make a move to leave, so I ask, “Did you get the message Rod sent about getting a ride with some friends?”
Mom frowns and pulls her phone out of the little side pocket on her new handbag. “No, I haven’t looked at the thing all day. Been too busy unpacking, which you need to help with when we get home.”
Sure, Mom, I’ll jump right on that after my crap-ton of homework and making dinner for the family.
She scrolls through her messages for a second and something occurs to me: If Mom didn’t text me, who did?
I smile when I see Ben’s name.
Ben: you have the best smile
I’m grinning as I type back.
Me: i was thinking the same thing about you
I hit send before I chicken out. It’s a lot easier for me to flirt when I’m not looking at someone face-to-face. That’s another reason I want to be a writer — my lack of social skills. I plan to be one of those authors who stay in their pajamas all day, sipping coffee while typing out amazing pearls of wisdom and keeping the social interaction limited to social media.
Online and out of sight.
My phone vibrates again.
Ben: me? Nah, gotta gap you could drive a mack truck thru
I snort-laugh and Mom looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. I ignore her and she pulls away from the front of the school.
Me: nah the gap only adds to your looks
I cringe, because I instantly regret sending that. It sounds kinda, I don’t know, desperate maybe. I figure he has girls throwing themselves at him all the time and I don’t want to be put in any category with the rest of them.
He doesn’t answer me back and I keep worrying, hoping I didn’t push him away.
Mom wants to talk about school, so I stick my phone under my thigh so I can feel it vibrate if Ben decides to answer me.
I should clarify that she doesn’t want to talk about school; she wants to talk about how Rod did in school today. While we don’t have any classes together, I tell her about the jock table at lunch and Mom says she’s glad to hear that Rod is fitting in.
I have to shove down the hurt that I feel over the fact that she’s more interested in how he fit in than how my day went.
I tell her about getting asked out on a date, and I swear, she’s happier about the fact that it’s Rod’s coach’s son than anything else. She says that I need to get my dad’s approval first, but she seems happy about it. I’m sure it has more to do with Rod than me though.
We’re pulling into our huge garage — seriously, it’s as big as our whole house back in California — when my phone vibrates again.
Ben: sorry coach/slave driver wanted help
I smile at that.
Me: no prob, not like i was waiting. I was, but Ben didn’t need to know that.
Ben: have you gotten the ok for fri?
I snort-laugh. Guess I didn’t push him away after all. I type out my answer as we walk into the house. The place smells like cinnamon and I wonder if Mom has been baking. I usually do all the cooking, but Mom is the baker.
Me: mom said yeah but still gotta talk to dad
Ben: ok lemme know
I don’t bother replying, figuring I’ll talk to my dad first so I can just give Ben the answer. Since the house is so big and I don’t want to waste time looking for him, I text him.
Me: where you at? gotta question
He doesn’t answer right away, so I head into the kitchen to start digging through the fridge and freezer to see what I can make for dinner. In Cali, Mom would go shopping almost every day on her way home, because we had this cool Mexican market that carried fresh fish and meats and they had the best fruits and veggies. We didn’t even own a big freezer then.
But now, we have a huge commercial fridge and another big freezer in the garage. Mom went on a crazed food shopping trip and stocked us up on enough meats to feed the eastern seaboard.
Dad still hasn’t answered by the time I decide on baked ziti for dinner and start the sauce, so I go into the den, where I knew Mom is watching her afternoon talk shows. Even back in her days as a cafeteria lady — just weeks ago haha — she always rushed home after the crew got the kitchen cleaned so she could watch her shows. I don’t get the appeal, honestly.
“Hey, where’s Dad?”
I almost laugh because Mom looks like exactly what she’s become — a rich lady of leisure. She’s curled up on the huge caramel-colored leather sectional, legs tucked under her, sipping a cup of what I know is her favorite, chai.
She looks up at me and frowns. “Um, I don’t know. Was the Jag in the garage when we came in?”
I cock my head at her. I hadn’t noticed because I’d been busy texting Ben. It was weird that she hadn’t noticed. Even weirder for my dad to take off without telling someone. I trot off to the garage to check.
Mom is in the kitchen refilling her mug when I come back in. “Jag’s gone,” I tell her as I move to stir my pasta sauce. It already smells delicious and I haven’t even added the fresh basil yet.
She glances at me as she stirs milk into her tea. “Hmm,” is all she says, then turns and walks out of the kitchen.
“So not helpful, Mom,” I mumble under my breath.
Okay, first, it was weird that my mom hadn’t even noticed if my dad’s car was in the garage. I have an excuse because I was texting. Second, Mom has been acting weird lately, like distracted and really quiet. While she never talks to me a lot, she’s been even more distant. I’m surprised she even remembered to pick me up today.
That makes me think about the fact that we only have two vehicles and I’m supposed to start driving to school tomorrow. If Dad is going to be gone doing whatever, that would leave Mom here with no car.
Back in Cali, that wasn’t a problem. We only had one car then and Dad had to use it to get to his job at the prison, while Mom always took the bus. But there isn’t a bus system in Bearing. I wonder if they had Uber or Lyft here.
“Hey, Mom,” I call before she gets too far away as I pull the pasta pot out of the cupboard, “don’t forget I have to take the Mercedes tomorrow. Are you going to be okay if Dad leaves again?”
She sticks her head around the corner of the doorway, her golden hair shining under the bright kitchen lights.
“Oh, I ordered a new car today. It should be delivered in the morning.”
I’m still trying to get used to this new universe I live in where my mom says things like, “I ordered a new car,” as if she just placed an Amazon order. It’s also strange that she said she’d done it. So far, every penny that has been spent of Mom’s inheritance Dad had to bully her into spending.
So weird.
“Oh?” I ask as I fill the pot with water. “What kind did you get?” I glance back at her as I heft the heavy pot onto the huge eight burner stove and turn it on.
“Oh, um,” she says distractedly as she looks at her phone, “it’s a Cadillac.”
My eyes almost bug. “You bought a Cadillac… here? Where the snow is up to our knees?” Even my dad’s Jag is a four-wheel-drive SUV.
Mom glances back at me as she types something on her phone. “No, it’s a, what do you call them — like the Mercedes. But bigger.”
My eyes do bug then. “An Escalade? You bought an Escalade?” She nods as she keeps looking at her phone.
“That’s a gangsta ride,” I laugh. The idea of my mom cruising in an Escalade strikes me as pretty funny, for some reason. I figure we’ll need to put in a premium sound system complete with bass box and get her some stylin’ bandanas.
She doesn’t answer me as she walks off toward the den, still staring at her phone. I shake my head as I pour a little olive oil into the pasta water that’s barely starting to simmer. My mom is worse than a teenager with her phone suddenly.
I feel like the mother in the relationship now, cooking dinner and shaking my head at the “kid” messing with her phone instead of paying attention to me.
Dinner comes and goes with neither Rod nor Dad showing up. And neither of them is answering my texts, which really kind of ticks me off. Mom doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, just eats and goes to bed, which leaves me with that weird feeling again like I’m the adult here.
Mom was quiet through dinner, not contributing to the conversation, but just answering me whenever I asked her a question. I chalk it up to her being worried about Rod and my dad.
I fix two plates of pasta for my dad and brother, wrap them in foil and put them in the warmer oven. Yeah, the kitchen has a freaking oven just for keeping food warm.
Afterwards, I go upstairs and start doing my homework — and yeah, I’m kinda pissed that we were given homework the first day of the semester — when I hear someone come in. The only reason I do is because I wanted the bedroom that was closest to the stairs. I have this weird fear of fire, ever since I was a little kid. I always want to be close to the escape route.
Whoever it is that comes in is noisy. It’s kind of late, but they aren’t trying to be quiet. I put my laptop aside and climb off my bed to investigate.
Banging is coming from the kitchen, so I head in there. What I see stops me in my tracks. Rod is in the kitchen and obviously drunk. Very drunk.
As far as I know, my brother has never even had alcohol. He was popular in our old high school thanks to being a top athlete, but he never went to parties, even though he was invited all the time. Rod was always too concerned about staying in shape, eating right, getting enough sleep.
