The Boxer and the Butterfly

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The Boxer and the Butterfly Page 8

by Sasha Hibbs


  “I came to see you today, now it’s your turn.”

  “What? I can’t come see you tonight.” I took no trouble to hide how shocked I felt that he would suggest me sneaking out to see him.

  “My, my, my, Miss Chamberlain. Moving a bit fast, aren’t you? What do you take me for? A harlot? You have to at least take me out for dinner a couple of times before I invite you over for the night.”

  I felt the heat of my embarrassment rise up in my face. I was sure my appearance was blood-red with mortification.

  “Text me?” Mickey said.

  “I think I can do that.”

  “I’ll talk to you tonight, then,” Mickey said with a half-smile that was so boyish and cute it made me want to kiss him again.

  “Tonight,” I said as I watched him walk toward the employee kitchen where Cecelia would be. I stood there until he was gone but the butterflies still remained.

  I started walking back toward the clubhouse where I knew my parents would be lounging after lunch. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mickey and how things were turning out completely different than I anticipated. This was all so new to me. Just as Mickey was participating in illegal fights, I was gambling too.

  The risks I was taking were adding up. I knew it was dangerous. I never broke the rules. I always listened. I was the perfect student and daughter until I ran into a pair of glacier-blue eyes that haunted me day and night. There was a lure there I couldn’t resist. Lost in my thoughts, I stopped short when my gaze met with a pair of gleaming white Nikes. I dreaded this. I looked up to the one wearing them.

  “Jay.”

  “Do you make it a habit of riding with any random guy?” Jay asked, his voice clipped short.

  “Excuse me?” I asked incredulously.

  “Who was that guy?”

  I stared up at Jay completely taken aback. His lip was curled back and his face was scrunched up in disgust.

  “None of your business, Jay. It’s not like we’re dating.” I made to move past him until he grabbed my upper arm.

  “You mean him?” Jay asked, slowly releasing my arm.

  “No. I mean you and I are not dating, so it’s nothing to you who I decide to see or take a ride with.”

  “That’s not what our parents think,” Jay said with a smug smile.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Now, why don’t we go see our parents, Autumn?”

  “What did you do?” A sick knot welled up inside me.

  Jay smirked and turned away from me. I stood there blinking after him. Oh, no, no, no.

  He told my parents about me driving off with Mickey. I just knew it. Of course they didn’t know who he was, and I didn’t want to hide Mickey from them, but this had to happen at the right time. And that was definitely not now. If they found out Mickey was there the day I decided to graffiti the side of the school, they would blame him. Say he was a bad influence.

  In that moment, I was aware of how unfair and deceiving appearances could be. While Jay came from a rich and prominent family, Mickey was poor. But what Mickey lacked in money he made up for in so many other ways, ways that Jay could never live up to. But that combined with Mickey being present for the one time in my life I decided to cut loose and be a wild child for all of five minutes before I got caught, would forever tarnish Mickey in my parents’ eyes.

  I ran to catch up to Jay, scared of what he’d told my parents but hoping damage control was still attainable. Running into the clubhouse, I spotted my mom and Mrs. Aster sitting on a chaise lounge laughing over cocktails. My heart thudded loudly against my fear. My mom was at least smiling. I spotted my dad and Jay’s dad playing pool. I took a deep breath and padded over to where my mom and Mrs. Aster were. I glanced over to the chaise across from them to see Jay sitting and looking comfortably smug as he met my gaze.

  As I approached, Jay shot to his feet, feigning the gentlemen act in front of our moms. He moved to stand by my side and actually rested his hand on the small of my back. I glanced up at him and I know he caught the questioning look in my gaze.

  “Autumn!” his mother beamed. “Jay just told us the good news!”

  “News?” I said cautiously through gritted teeth.

  Jay leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Go along or I’ll blow your cover.”

  “You two have been thick as thieves,” she said, a single elegant finger pointing between the two of us. My skin crawled standing this close to Jay. I glanced over at my mom who wore a pleased expression.

  “Jay’s just told us you’ve agreed to go to prom with him. We’d always hoped you two would date, but didn’t want to push. These things need to happen naturally.”

  All of the previous happiness I felt minutes ago was now replaced with a lie that hadn’t come from me. A lie I was going to have to go along with until I could figure out how to outsmart or bribe Jay. It would seem that Jay wasn’t only good at football and looking like a GQ model. As I stood next to him, in all our one-way conversations, I had never once believed Jockhead could outwit me. And yet here I stood. Wearing a smile when Jay made my skin crawl. Seething inside at him taking advantage and being opportunistic. I would put up with this charade until I could figure out something else, some way to make my parents accept Mickey.

  This time, I couldn’t come up with a lie good enough to make that happen.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Jay, walk me with?” I asked with a fake smile.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see our mothers smiling between themselves. At least they were happy about this new situation where I was the victim.

  “Uh, sure,” Jay said. I could hear the hesitation in his voice. This may not’ve been the time or place to expose him or myself with our lies, but I was going to let Jay know this wasn’t going to last. I wasn’t going to be used, least of all by him.

  “We’ll be back in a few,” I said over my shoulder as I turned to leave.

  I could hear the soft padding of Jay’s Nikes behind me. I led him out into the lobby, and then faced him after scanning the area to make sure no one was around.

  “What the hell are you doing, Jay?” I asked, clenching my fists at my sides.

  “Believe it or not, Autumn, this isn’t about you.” Jay flicked his head to get the tuft of hair away from his eyes.

  I almost laughed.

  “Just how does you and I going to prom, or better yet, us dating, have nothing to do with me? It sounds like I’m very much a part of that equation.”

  “Suffice it to say that I saw you driving off with that grease-ball, and seized an opportunity,” Jay said. He actually looked annoyed with me.

  The feeling was entirely mutual. For as much as Jay was self-centered and arrogant, he wasn’t a complete idiot. His parents were cut out of the same cloth as mine. One look at Mickey and Jay knew how poorly my parents would react. My anger was rising by the second.

  “I’m not an opportunity, you jerk—”

  “Save it, Autumn. You have as much to gain by this farce as I do. I’m doing you a favor.”

  “Really?” I said in disbelief.

  “I already told you, this isn’t really about you. If you’re dating me, when we go out, you can go out with Loser Guy for all I care. It will give me the time I need.”

  “Mickey’s not a loser, Jay. He’s smart, and funny…” Jay’s bored look stopped me from gushing. “Wait, what? What do you mean, the time you need?”

  “You want to date Loser Guy, and I want something else, too. We both have parents who don’t understand. You date me. Problem solved. Now do you get it?”

  I stood there for a few seconds, blinking up at Jay. I was totally stunned. I did not see that coming. It could work. But why was Jay doing this for me? It finally clicked in place. Because it wasn’t me he wanted to date, it was someone else entirely and I was guessing she was someone his parents wouldn’t approve of. Jay and I had common ground. I didn’t think the day could get any weirder.

  “I don’t know what to say
,” I said. And for the first time in the last few weeks, that actually was the truth.

  “Thank you works fine,” Jay said.

  “So, who is she?”

  “Rather than text each other, we should call to set up ‘dates’. That way our parents can’t snoop through texts and find anything out. Deal?” Jay said, ignoring my question about who his mystery girl was.

  In good faith, I stuck my hand out for him to shake on our mutual lie. I wouldn’t pressure him for information on who the girl was he was so interested in. If Jay felt about his girl the way I was beginning to feel about Mickey, I felt sorry for him. We should be able to see and date who we wanted. But we were pawns in our parents’ game playing for kings and queens we couldn’t have.

  “Agreed,” I said as Jay took my hand in his and shook it.

  ****

  Driving back from the Country Club, I couldn’t believe the ups and downs my day had taken. It was emotional whiplash. My heart rose when I saw Mickey, the thrill of sneaking off on his motorcycle, only to plummet when I realized I was caught. And then never, never, never in a million years would I have ever believed Jay wouldn’t blow my cover, but actually help me.

  He wouldn’t tell me who the girl was he was seeing, but I owed her, was eternally grateful that she was the recipient of Jay’s attention instead of me. However, it did confirm what I had suspected all along—that Jay was never genuinely interested in me. It was only his parents putting pressure on him. I should have felt somewhat used, but I was too much in debt to him. Our secret would enable me to see Mickey until I could come up with a way to tell my parents about him.

  “Jay’s such a charming boy, Autumn. You should have him over next weekend.”

  That caught my attention. I looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her approval was clear in the broad smile she wore.

  “Jay’s a good kid. He’ll have all kinds of scholarship opportunities. I’ll have to take him fishing when the weather warms up,” Dad said, chiming in with Mom.

  “If you all are okay with it, we were thinking about seeing a movie Friday night and then maybe going to the bowling alley with some friends,” I said.

  Lie. Lie. Lie. I was getting good at impromptu deceptions. I told myself I was doing this for Jay, too. In a way, I was helping a friend out. Although if being honest, we’d only become friends in the last hour. A shared conflict could bring two people on opposing sides together to present a united front.

  “Oh, I suppose that would be fine,” Mom said.

  Dad said nothing.

  I’m sure if I told them I wanted to go to a movie and bowling with Mickey they would throw me in my room, lock the door, and throw away the key. Money and connections were the languages my parents spoke. They wouldn’t care that Mickey came from a loving family, that he was smart, or that he was a gentleman with me. They would take one look at him and turn their noses up. I wouldn’t dwell on that now. I would take my good fortune and go with it, whatever the price I would have to pay later.

  Once we got home, I raced upstairs, telling my parents I had to study for a test tomorrow. I wanted to be alone with my phone and Mickey. I smiled, thinking about how he teased me earlier. Plopping down on the center of my bed, I pulled my iPhone out and scrolled under my contacts until I found Mickey’s number.

  Giddy, I shot him a text.

  Thanks for today. Motorcycling could be my new favorite thing to do. Lol.

  I clutched my phone to my chest and nearly jumped out of my skin when it dinged, signaling I had an incoming text.

  Change your mind about coming to see me, Miss Chamberlain? Lol.

  I smiled. He was lightly teasing me. There was something about him using acronyms I found funny.

  No, Mr. Costello. But I will see you tomorrow. What are you doing now?

  My iPhone instantly chimed.

  Talking to you and reading.

  Reading? What are you reading?

  Mickey was so unassuming. He was rough around the edges. He was angry, I’d experienced that on a few occasions. He could fence with words as equally as with his fists. And yet, there was a softness in him that I’d seen glimpses of, making me long for more.

  Let every man make known what kind of government would command his respect, and that will be one step toward obtaining it.

  I texted him back. Is that Emerson or Thoreau?

  Thoreau’s Civil Disobedience. I needed to refresh my memory so I wouldn’t disappoint my tutor.

  I smiled at his playfulness and had a sudden thought. My dad would leave in the morning before I left for school. It was the dead of winter and cold outside, too cold to be riding a motorcycle. Surely I wouldn’t get caught and there would be no harm…

  Do you want me to pick you up for school tomorrow?

  It seemed an eternity before Mickey answered me.

  You know the way, my girl.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Instead of being annoyed at my alarm clock for its incessant nagging at me to get up, I was excited to hear the noise I usually dreaded. Mickey and I were still quite new at this whole dating thing. I was convinced he could pull off his cool demeanor under the most drastic circumstances, me on the other hand … I was a nervous wreck.

  I flung my closet door open and cursed for not being more selective when shopping with my mom. I thought about that blonde bimbo who was on the back of Mickey’s motorcycle the first time I tried to confront him about going to class. She and I couldn’t be further apart on the spectrum of looks. She was pretty and I was plain.

  After tossing most everything in my closet out on my floor, I leafed through my clothes until I found jeans I swore I’d never wear. Slipping them on, I stood in nothing but my bra and my too-tight jeans, examining my appearance. They were low-cut and hugged my hips. They actually made me look like I had curves that had evaded me so far in my seventeen years. I tossed on a navy blue top that had an empire waistline. It fanned out under my boobs, giving the appearance they were bigger than what they are. I hated to resort to such tactics, but it was Mickey’s fault. Before him, I’d never tried to gain a boy’s attention.

  Satisfied, I ran into my bathroom and added a light coat of mascara and spritzed some Coco Chanel on my wrists and behind my ears. As soon as I left my bedroom, I could smell Mary cooking waffles. I let my nose lead the way and another odor hit my senses.

  Before slipping past my parents’ room, I looked in. My mom was still in bed, my dad gone. He’d already left for work. He would be working at the local branch of Clarksburg Financial this week, which is why I was surprised to find my mom still in bed. That meant she was still probably sleeping off the alcohol she’d gotten into. She usually waited until my dad was out of town to really tie one on. But I’d given up hope a long time ago that my dad was clueless, that if he knew he could help her, put a stop to her drinking.

  If I could smell the remnants of her wine in the hallway, I knew my dad had to have felt suffocated by its stench last night and this morning. But we were the Chamberlains. We didn’t have problems. I closed my parents’ bedroom door. Today I was going to pick Mickey up. I was happy and I wasn’t going to let the aroma of gewürztraminer drown my happiness. I padded downstairs to the kitchen where Mary popped the top off the waffle iron.

  “Good morning, Mary,” I said.

  Turning to hand me the plate of hot waffles, she looked me up and down.

  “Where are you going?” Mary said, with an eyebrow raised sharply at me.

  “To school.”

  I sat the plate of waffles down and walked around the island. I gave her a squeeze and a peck on the cheek. “These look and smell delicious!”

  “Boy, you sure are in a good mood this morning.”

  I ignored the suspicion in her voice and made quick work of my waffles. I glanced up briefly to see her eyeing me curiously. Finishing, I rinsed my plate off and put it in the sink.

  “Thanks, Mary. Your cooking is what keeps me going,” I said as I grabbed my keys an
d iPhone.

  “Bye,” I heard her say as I walked out of the house. There was a trace of confusion in her voice, but I didn’t stay long enough for her to speculate on anything. If there was someone capable of picking me apart, it was Mary.

  I hurried to get into my Jetta and get to High Street. There was a particular boy who lived on that street I couldn’t wait to see. I didn’t want to come across as too interested, but I was. I felt nervous and hoped Mickey wouldn’t be able to sense it. I turned the radio on and up. Music was what I needed. I thought about all the band posters scattered across Mickey’s shed walls. It gave me a thought. I scanned to the classic rock station and was welcomed by “Sweet Child of Mine” by Guns N’ Roses.

  I felt the smile spread across my face. Yes. Yes, I could get down with these tunes. I listened to Axl Rose wail as I pulled onto High Street. I checked the clock. I was making good time and things were going according to plan. I pulled in and waited for Mickey to emerge from his house. The seconds continued to tick by. Was I supposed to get out? Go in? Knock on his door? My heart faltered at the thought that maybe Mickey forgot which would make me feel like a complete ass.

  I closed my eyes and slumped down in my seat, feeling stupid. Did I misunderstand Mickey? I replayed yesterday’s events in my head, going through all of our exchanges. I knew I heard him correctly, so why was he keeping me waiting?

  Just as I was about to give into despair, I jumped at a rap on my window. With a jolt, I straightened myself and looked up to see Mickey outside my window.

  “Unlock your door,” he said loudly so I could hear through the window.

  “Oh,” I murmured and hurried to hit the unlock button.

  He walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger side. He slid down beside me and shut his door.

  “How’s my girl this morning?” he asked with a glint of mischief in his gaze. He was eyeing me intensely and I had second thoughts about my outfit. Did it look too intentional?

  “Good.” I told myself to breathe in and breathe out. I put the Jetta in reverse and backed out of his driveway.

 

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