by Maya Hughes
"Is that what it is? Because her daddy has more money than mine? Trust me, she's never going to put out for you." She batted her eyelashes at me and stepped closer, putting her hand on my chest. My head slammed against the lockers as she spoke inches from my face. A nervous laugh burst free from me. Monica couldn't handle that I, of all people, turned her down. She hadn’t cared one bit until she saw me out with Frankie.
"I bet she won't know how to do half the things I can do to you," she said, biting her bottom lip. But it wasn't sweet and cute like when Frankie did it. It was a calculation on how to get a guy to do what she wanted, and I wasn't taking the bait. I resisted the urge to shove her to the ground.
Monica reached out and ran her finger down my cheek. I turned my head to the side and my heart froze. Frankie. She stood only a few lockers away, before she rushed off.
I pushed Monica away from me, and rushed after her.
"He wants a real woman, Francesca!" Monica shouted after us. I couldn’t stop to turn around and set Monica straight. Because for one thing, I didn’t want to get expelled, but what was more important, I needed to get to Frankie first.
I raced after Frankie until she ran into the girls’ bathroom. I stopped short and contemplated going inside, but one of the teachers who fucking hated me stood on the other side of the hallway, eyeballing me. That's all I needed. A suspension. The warning bell rang, but no sign of her.
I glanced at the time on my phone and gritted my teeth. She couldn't hide in there forever. I was pushing against the bathroom door when a hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around.
"Mr. Grimsby, where do you think you're going?" he asked, looking one second away from writing me up.
"I was going to check on a friend," I said, glancing sideways at the door.
"I'm sure whatever it is you have to say can wait until she's finished. Does the counselor need to have a discussion about boundaries with you?" He crossed his arms over his chest, and it took everything in me not to roll my eyes. He was a pompous prick who thought jocks only rested on their laurels and didn't actually do any work.
"No, I don't need a boundaries talk, but I need to make sure she's okay."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door swing open, and Frankie took off down the hall. I took a step in her direction, and the teacher stepped in front of me.
"We're not finished yet, Mr. Grimsby."
I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck.
"My friend is finished, and I need to talk to her."
"You need to get to class. The bell is about to ring."
"I've still got time," I said, staring over his shoulder. She turned the corner without looking back. The bell rang and I closed my eyes, shaking my head.
"And there we have it. Here, let me escort you to your class, Mr. Grimsby." He held out his arm, letting me go first, and stuck with me the entire way to my classroom. The door slammed behind me like a prison door.
The minute I sat down, I knew something was off. People were whispering and staring. Not like they did after we won a game. This was something different.
I needed to talk to Frankie. I needed to talk to her the minute class ended and try to explain that whatever it is she thinks she saw was not what it looked like.
5
Frankie - Then
I'd never thought a heart breaking would make a real sound. But it did. It sounded like that sad gasp people made when a girl turned down a marriage proposal mixed with laughter. I'd been stupid. Stupidly thinking that anything that happened with Grim was anything more than something I made up in my head. Those sounds followed me through the entire day at school.
Star football player does not ask out the dorky girl, unless he thinks there's something in it for him. He does not take her to the dance and behave like the perfect gentleman before dropping her off at home and kissing her to within an inch of her life. I'd read enough books to know a fairytale when I saw one. That was all it was.
I raced to the bathroom after standing there next to Grim, as my world imploded. My non-existent breakfast came up right there in the bathroom stall. Lovely. I sat on the edge of the seat with my books clutched against my chest. My breath came in shuddering pants as the lights in the room dimmed around me.
It was like someone was trying to claw their way out of my chest. Maybe it was the girl I thought I was at the dance. She was trying to claw her way out. Run away, never to be seen again. I stuck my head between my knees and tried my best to keep my tears quiet.
My dad's money? Poverty card? Their laughter still rang in my ears. Her lips had been so close to his. Her fingers on his cheek. I’d gotten on Monica's radar since we were seven, and my dad had actual horse rides at my birthday party. The stable sent over a few. I'd been going through a riding phase back then. Well, Monica had had pony rides at her party, and she thought I was trying to show her up.
The next four years of my life were hell, as she took every chance she got to rip into me. I'd tried to wear the right clothes, spending hours agonizing over my outfits. I’d tried to like the right shows and listen to the right music, but it was never enough. So I gave up.
I stuck with my video games, my computer, my clothes, and whatever the hell I wanted. Competing with her wasn't something I wanted to do. I fell off her radar and hadn't had to deal with the mean girls since. But seeing her there, laughing with Grim, touching him. Her lips so close to his. The lips that sometimes still felt like they were on mine. It brought on another round of gut-wrenching sobs.
After piecing myself back together in that bathroom, I decided John Grimsby was dead to me. I didn't need to acknowledge him or anything else about that night. I wasn't going to go near him. The pity date, or whatever the hell it was, never happened in my book. We were only a semester from graduation anyway. He'd go off to college on his football scholarship, and I was off to Harvard just like I'd always planned.
Plus, Killian was gone within a week of the dance. I tried my best with hacking his grades, but he still managed to screw it up, with only a semester to go. No Killian meant there was no reason for John and me to see one another. John approached me a few times in the hall, but I brushed him off. Monica and her bitches made sure I heard every little detail of the laugh everyone had at my expense.
"It was probably a bet."
"He's just looking for a meal ticket."
"He totally made out with Monica after the game."
"She thought she looked so cute in her little dress. Everyone was staring because she looked ridiculous."
Killian tried to find out what happened, but I just stopped talking whenever he brought it up, and he stopped asking. And he was one to talk. He was tight-lipped about everything, especially since getting kicked out. I had no idea what was going on with him, but I couldn't help if he didn't let me know, which was ironic because it was the same thing with me. I didn't see how he could fix this. The humiliation and anger came rolling back like I was back in middle school.
I tried not the think about him, but when I let my guard down, he crept in. Grim...most days I was okay. But then a wave of sadness would roll over me, and I'd lose it for a little bit. Those were the worst moments, when I needed to leave and sit in my car for a bit.
He practiced constantly and traveled with the team, so at least I didn't have too many run-ins with him. I kept my outside-of-class presence to an absolute minimum. I stopped going to my locker after the first few times he'd been waiting for me. Everyone stared. I hated it. I hated how it made me feel. That stupid, needy tween who just wanted someone to like her. Fuck that. We were leaving school in a matter of months.
I didn't need to spend those being picked apart by the entire school. I'd let them get in my head. As much as I hadn't wanted it to happen, it had. And every time I thought back to that night, I picked it apart, analyzed it, and came away with the fact that what I thought he felt for me must have been in my head. Or that it was all part of an elaborate plan I'd stopped before things got really b
ad.
When I was in front of my gaming console or leading my team in a game, I knew what was happening. I knew what to expect. I was in control there. With him, I was thrown in the deep end with my legs chained together.
The mighty Spartans won the state championship. Everyone's focus shifted to that, and Grim didn't stop by my locker anymore. It seemed like he was with a different girl every week. Thankfully, not Monica, but that only made it hurt a fraction less. It confirmed to me that I'd been right to get out of Dodge and not let him suck me into whatever game he was playing at. But as much as I tried to ignore him, little bits of information got in.
He got a scholarship to Duke. It was a great school. I'd be going to Harvard like my dad and grandfather. Once that acceptance letter came, I had even less of a reason to stick around at school. Throughout the rest of the semester, I was more than happy to stick to my TV cave and ride it out until graduation. I caught him watching me as I crossed the stage for graduation and shook hands with the principal, but I refused to look.
With three more weeks until I'd be heading off to college, I sat in front of my computer screens watching the alien raid going on without me. No one here knew what was going on in my life. I was the no-nonsense raid leader and that was it. Trash talk was a part of the whole game, but I played with a good crew, and it was nice to get lost in the online world for a while.
My online friends made it all a lot more bearable. A message popped up.
Sasha: Why aren't you playing, Frankie? You like to watch? ;)
I laughed. Sasha was probably the only person to pull a laugh out of me with how I was feeling. Like I was equal parts raw wound and sad puppy rolled into one.
Me: Yeah, you know me.
Sasha: I'm sure that will come in handy later on. Come on and play. It will make you feel better. Cheer you up.
Me: How do you know I need cheering up?
Sasha: You haven't once shouted at the team to get their act together, even Amanda who's over in the field chasing butterflies while everyone else is strategizing.
I glanced up at my screen to see Amanda's avatar skipping through the field instead of powering up her weapons. I tilted the mic on my headset down and opened the channel.
"Amanda, what the hell are you doing? Get over here. And if you go running in there without following the plan and leaving us exposed again, we're kicking you out. That's it."
"Come on, Frankie, I'm just having fun." Her nails-on-a-chalkboard voice made me grit my teeth.
Sasha: I'm going to grab a sandwich, I'm starving. Give'em hell, Frankie!
We managed to make it out of our raid successfully with little-to-no help from me. Everyone had an off day, so the team let it slide, but I hated how even a few months later it still weighed on me. The dreams I thought would stop after I saw him in the hall that day didn't end. The kiss still lingered on my lips, but I was done with Grim.
John Grimsby was dead to me, and if I didn't see him another day in my life, it would be too soon. Bye-bye, John.
6
Frankie - Now
I stood up so fast that my chair slid across the room and slammed against the wall behind me. I grabbed my phone off the console.
"Is no one else seeing this?" I said into my phone. "Do not let them use those candles for any kind of hot-wax play." I mean, seriously. What the hell were they thinking? That type of candle wax would cause second degree burns in seconds.
Was this their first day in my club? I needed to sit down and reevaluate my training sessions. This was the second incident this week. I prided myself on running a tight ship. For a sex club. People thought places like this had no rules. Hell no. We had a shit-ton of rules. Rules that ensured everyone stayed safe. I didn't need this headache. I had things to do. TV shows to watch. Games to play. And as much as I loved my club, sometimes a girl needed a day off from the club.
And tomorrow I'd finally get it. Killian's wedding day. A day I thought I'd never see. My bridesmaid's dress hung in the closet in the corner of my office. The pale purple was a stark contrast to the leather and lace that usually filled the space. I stared at the bright screens in front of me and watched my team move into the playroom.
I grabbed the dress out of my closet and slung it over my arm. Tomorrow should be interesting. I grimaced—John would be there. He'd been all over my ass ever since the thing went down with Killian and Rhys, but it wasn't my fault. He knows how Killian can be when his mind is set on something. So I did a little hacking into the NJ Police Department databases to retrieve some private and confidential information. So sue me. Actually, probably best not to do that, or I'd end up in jail.
I stepped out of my office, checking the video monitors covering the whole wall one more time before closing the door behind me. I prayed that no one got hurt tonight. Killian thought I watched the screens because I was a voyeur, but I watched the screens because I cared about my patrons. I knew just how bad things could go when the scene went wrong. Phantom pain ran through my arms, and I rubbed the raised scars on my wrists under the wide bracelets that I always wore. I never wanted anything like that to happen to anyone else.
The summer heat hit me as I walked through the parking garage to my car. If there was one person I'd have thought would be riding singlehood into the sunset, it was Killian. I nearly swallowed my tongue when he gave up his private room at my club.
But once I met Rachel, it all made sense. At first, I was skeptical because of the age difference. He'd never been a cradle robber before, but then I saw them together, and they just fit. She wasn't afraid to give him a piece of her mind, and he was completely smitten. The looks they both got in their eyes when they were together were adorable. Like there was no one else in the world for them. So sweet it almost made you want to throw up in your mouth a little.
I pulled out of the garage, whipped around the corner, and ran over a random bag sitting in the middle of the street. There was no way to avoid it. I really hoped there wasn't something alive in there. I glanced in my rearview mirror and didn't see any carnage.
I got to my townhouse, dropped my keys on the table beside the door, and hung my dress up in the foyer. Tomorrow was the big day. I had to drive out to the hotel tonight for the rehearsal dinner. I hoped they didn't expect me to make a speech. At least that was one silver lining of John being there. Co-best men, well one best man and one best woman standing up at the altar for Killian.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I slid it out and smiled.
Sasha: Home yet?
Me: Yes, what are you my keeper?
Sasha: Yeah, I'm making sure you don't try to back out of this wedding.
Me: Why would I do that?
Sasha: Because you have to give a speech.
Our text messages continued long after we stopped gaming together. Typing was second nature when we spoke. Sash knew me too well at this point. Every time I thought of standing up in front of everyone giving a heartfelt speech I wanted to throw up.
Me: I'm not scared. It will be fine.
Sasha: On your way there?
Me: No, I still have some time.
Sasha: Stop stalling. Write your speech and get on the road.
Me: Fine.
Sasha: You'll be seeing John tonight, right?
Seeing his name sent a shiver down my spine. John Grimsby. Other best friend to Killian. Also a man I seem to want to strangle every time I saw him. Had I liked him back in high school? Had our night out been one I compared so many other nights out over the years, which was beyond pathetic? Yes.
Did I still dream about that one kiss on the front steps of my house? Yes, because I was a complete and total moron. John liked to mess with me. Toy with me. My infatuation with him was something he cured me of back in high school. Every time we saw one another, it was antagonistic. Almost a game at this point. See whose buttons got pushed first.
Me: It's fine. We only have to stand up at the altar together and sit next to each other at the rehearsal dinner and recepti
on. It will be fine.
Sasha: Are you ever going to just get it all out in the open with him? Just move past high school.
I bristled at that. I think owning a sex club was pretty far past high school. Had I moved into full adulthood? I glanced around my brownstone. I owned my own home. Sure, it was filled with video game consoles, giant TVs, and an unhealthy amount of candy, but I'd say that went the same for most single guys in the city. It was an exercise in equality that I lived like this.
Me: There is nothing to move past. We are fine. This weekend will be fine, and we won't kill each other.
Sasha: I hope not.
I flopped down on the couch, my stomach grumbling. The TV screen that covered nearly my entire wall stared back at me. The temptation was strong. Just a few more episodes to binge-watch.
Sasha: Get off the couch and get on the road.
I rolled my eyes and turned on the TV.
Me: I'll be fine, Sash. Talk to you later.
I tucked my phone under my leg and grabbed the remote, flicking through the screens until I got to my show. My phone vibrated against my leg. I yanked it out and checked the screen.
Killian: Stop watching Netflix, Frankie! Get your ass down here!
I slammed my head against the couch. He was scary sometimes.
Me: I wasn't. I hadn't even turned the TV on yet. I'm coming.
Killian: Rachel's anxious to have some sane company. Dahlia just flew in, but the other bridesmaids are crazy.
Me: Way to lay it on thick. I'm coming.
John had the rings, so that was one less thing I needed to worry about. I chucked my little bit of makeup and hair stuff in the bag. There would be a professional hair and makeup person there tomorrow to handle the heavy lifting, but I needed to make sure I didn't look like the walking dead for the rehearsal dinner. I'd need to talk to John about the speeches because I didn't think anyone wanted me standing there in front of their friends and family as my stomach tried to climb out of my throat during a wedding speech.
