Easy

by Jordan S Gray

  “No, they won’t, but I don’t want to erase it. I own it. I fucked up. I want to show her it’s in the past, and there will be good things moving forward. I want her to know it won’t happen again.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why is it still so important to you? She’s okay now. She’s always cuddling with you, making goo-goo eyes, giggling…” Shayler chugged more of the coffee, wishing it were whiskey instead.

  “I love her, Shayler,” he said, sounding as though he couldn’t possibly understand her confusion. “And when you love someone, you do everything you can to make them happy.”

  She scrunched her nose and ripped up scrap pieces of paper that were in front of her, possibly Whitney’s homework.

  “You don’t agree?”

  “I don’t know.” Shayler shrugged. “I’ve never done the whole love thing. But it sounds like someone sticks you in a box, pours cement over your feet, and tosses you into the ocean.”

  “That’s what I used to think, too.”

  “Before you fell in love,” she mumbled.

  “Before I fell in love.” He beamed.

  “Love is … gross,” she said. “People in love are disturbing.”

  His smile stayed. “Come on. Love doesn’t just mean boyfriends and girlfriends.”

  “I saw Frozen, Derek. I know.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Still not buying it.”

  “Are you saying that, when Rebecca has one of her freak-outs, you don’t immediately drive to her house and make her laugh until she calms down?”

  Shayler thought back on all the times she’d spent at her best friend’s place. Most of the memories were of them having a good time. But then she dug deeper. Winter break, she’d tried everything she could think of to make Rebecca smile again. Shayler had gone ice skating three times, to some awful documentary about the planet and washing out old soda cans once, and to the used bookstore twice a day, every day other than Christmas. And when Bobby Dominguez had called her on their fourth night home, she’d told him she’d moved to Hollywood and was too busy hanging with Leo to talk—even though he was the only guy she knew who would go down on her for a full thirty minutes without complaint.

  “See?” Derek said. “You love her as much as I do.”

  Shayler rolled her eyes. “I’ve been around her for seven years, thrown up on her thirty-six times, and hacked into our principal’s computer in ninth grade to change her gym grade to an A. I obviously love her more.”

  “Does she know about that?”

  “I mentioned it once, but she thought it was a joke. How could Rebecca Washington ever get a C?”

  “So you’ll help me?”

  “Um, what have I been doing?” Shayler pointed to the ribbons in front of Derek.

  “Half-assing it.”

  “Am not!”

  He studied her. “You’ve been phoning it in since I mentioned apps.”

  “Because what kind of college student has appetizers at a party? Or a party at a restaurant? She’s turning twenty-one, not seventy nine.”

  Derek rocked back in his seat.

  “Fine.” Shayler grunted, blowing up a balloon and letting the air out in Derek’s face. “I may know where we can keep this shit, but you can’t ask questions.”

  Derek smirked and pounded his fist with hers, making Shayler question her best friend’s relationship again. He was such a dork. Unfortunately, now he was a dork she’d have to put up with for life.

  She stalked down to her car, hoping Derek would let her take the decorations by herself so he could go away. But he didn’t. He climbed into the passenger seat, snuggling into the suede like he was ready for a bedtime story.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “No questions,” she grumbled.

  It was bad enough she was going to be driving to David’s house for the first time since the half-naked incident. Last Friday, they’d gone to the bar to study at his suggestion. They’d both been worried she’d run into Kyle who thought she was still under the weather—probably because she kept texting him that whenever he sent her a new pic of his lackluster penis. Though she’d had to applaud the creative angles he continued to use.

  “Are we going or what?” Derek asked.

  Shayler shook her head and turned the key in the ignition. Derek needed somewhere neat to hide the birthday supplies, and David’s house was cleaner than most. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind her showing up at his door randomly, but that was a chance she’d have to take.

  Of course, a normal person would’ve called or texted, but Shayler knew he’d be home. And all the energy she’d have to spend typing out a message was better spent smacking Derek’s hand away from the stereo’s knobs. Also, she didn’t want David to say no.

  “Are we close?” Derek asked for the tenth time, his knee jogging up and down.

  “Yes,” she said, pulling into the house.

  “Whose place is this?”

  “Still not answering.”

  Derek glanced at her. “You know I’m going to find out in a few seconds.”

  “Then you’ll have no problem waiting.”

  Her chest contracted at seeing the Prius parked in front of her car. Thankfully, there was no sign of the ginormous truck Kyle drove. She turned the engine off, climbed out, and hip-checked her door shut. Derek was quick to follow suit, striding to the front door as she grabbed the stuff out of her trunk. He didn’t wait for her before he started knocking, pounding his fist like he was there to investigate a noise complaint.

  David opened the door as Shayler walked up the driveway. She felt her cheeks warm as Derek spun around, winked, and mouthed nice choice.

  “Hi, David,” she said.

  “Uh, hey.”

  “This is interesting,” Derek said, wiggling his brows. “Very interesting.”

  Shayler rolled her eyes and shoved her way past him and inside the house. Derek trailed after her, and David closed the door. As the boys gave each other a once over, Shayler emptied the contents onto David’s kitchen counter.

  “Nice to see you, Shayler,” David said, sounding suspicious as he came up behind her.

  “Yeah, listen, I need a favor.”

  “Oh, I’m good, thanks for asking. How’re you?”

  “Do you think you could store this for us?”

  “Uh…” David scratched his head.

  “I’m Derek,” Derek announced, sticking his hand near David’s chest.

  David introduced himself, and both men turned to Shayler.

  “This is Derek. My best friend’s annoying boyfriend who needs somewhere to put this shit,” Shayler explained. “And my place … well you’ve never seen it, but it’s pretty terrible, and most of this stuff would end up with unidentifiable stains.”

  “I asked if she knew anyone,” Derek said. “She drove us here.”

  “Um, what for?” He eyed the beige bags.

  “It’s not drugs, you nerd,” Shayler said. “It’s party stuff for my best friend’s birthday. It’s a surprise, and we have nowhere to keep it.”

  “Right.” David glanced at her. “Okay. Here.” He picked up a few bags and led Shayler down the hall, to a door.

  She paused at the entrance. His bedroom. The longer she stared, the more she realized how neat his space was. It was unnaturally tidy, like Mr. Clean lived there. Actually, it didn’t look like anyone lived there. The carpet was pristine, the walls were a vibrant white, and the bed didn’t have a single wrinkle, as though someone had ironed the sheets. Shayler cleared her throat as David opened his closet.

  On the door was a plastic shoe holder, and each shoe had its own spot. Inside, a tidy rack of shirts was categorized by length of their sleeves and then according to the rainbow with neutral colors in the back. Shayler tiptoed forward, afraid she’d befriended a serial killer.

  “I have room at the top,” he said, reaching up and organizing the décor.

  “Oh my God,” she said.
“You’re a psychopath.”

  He turned. “What?”

  “You…” She gestured to his room. “Where’s the wig you put on at night to look like your mother? The daggers you polish? How much air freshener do you have to use to cover up the scent of the hacked-up women that you’ve skinned and stuffed into the vents?”

  He looked around. “Is this because I’m neat?”

  “This is far past neat.” She pinched her nose. “Derek!”

  He jogged into the room, holding the rest of his crap. “Huh?”

  “We can’t leave this stuff here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I think David’s gonna kidnap someone and strangle them with the petunia-purple ribbon. And then stuff their heads in the balloons.”

  “I’m not crazy,” David said, clenching his jaw.

  For a brief moment, Shayler saw actual anger flash in his eyes, and it did something funny to her insides. She curled her toes into the tips of her boots.

  “I don’t know, man.” Derek assessed the situation. “You’re definitely borderline something.”

  “Yeah, Rebecca would piss her pants if she saw this.”

  “Damion would worship you.”

  “I’m mostly just freaked out,” Shayler said.

  “Do you want these back?” David asked, pulling the bags down again.

  “No judging here,” Derek interjected. “My brother’s wife has to unlock the door twice before going inside, and then check the lock three more times.”

  “I’m just tidy,” David said, crossing his arms. “Not OCD.”

  Shayler enjoyed watching him size up Derek. Rebecca’s boyfriend oozed charm and humor, whereas David was pure wit and kindness. If she was being honest, she kind of preferred the latter.

  “Sure,” Derek said.

  David took the stuff from Derek’s arms and placed them in his closet. “No one will touch it if it’s here. If I keep it out there, Kyle might find it.”

  “Thank you,” she said as he led them out and shut his door.

  “Yeah.”

  Derek took out his phone and rested against the front door, so Shayler went to the kitchen with David. “I was only teasing you.”

  “Mhm.”

  “I know you’re not crazy.”

  He studied her, and she heated up under his stare. “You ready for the test Friday?”

  “That’s what you wanna talk about?” She put her foot up on the wall. “I show up at your door, out of the blue, and you ask me about a test?”

  “It’s going to be a tough one.”

  “I know, you’ve mentioned that about fifty times. Including when we were in class yesterday.”

  “I want you to be prepared.”

  “I’ll be fine. I have a good study buddy, remember?” She tapped his ankle with her other foot and twirled a piece of her hair around a finger. Her stomach tightened when he grinned.

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t mean to interrupt, so carry on,” Derek said, reappearing.

  Shayler huffed. “You’re not interrupting anything.”

  “Sure I’m not.” Derek turned to David. “Hey, man, thanks for storing that shit. I appreciate it.”

  “It’s cool. I have the space.”

  “You know, if you aren’t busy, you should come.”

  “To Rebecca’s birthday?” Shayler asked before David could speak. What the hell was Derek doing? And why the fuck did he keep grinning at her?

  “Yeah. As a proper thank you for the help. There’s going to be food and stuff.”

  David glanced at her. “That’s okay.”

  “If you change your mind…” Derek shrugged.

  “Sure.”

  Shayler bit her lip as Derek started walking to the door. She stayed close by his side. Why had David turned down the invite? Didn’t he want to meet her friends?

  “Later,” Derek said, nodding as he walked to Shayler’s car.

  She waited on the porch, searching David’s face but finding no answers to her questions. “See ya.”

  “Make sure you study,” he said.

  “Yes, Professor.”

  With a small chuckle, he closed the door. Shayler zipped up her jacket. The early February air was cruel today, stinging her nose and fingers. An image popped up in her mind of David wrapping his arms around her, shielding her from the wicked wind.

  “You coming?” Derek asked, tapping the top of her car.

  “Uh, y-yeah.” Shayler jogged forward, wondering why it suddenly felt so much colder.

  Chapter Nineteen

  That night was, as usual, girls’ night. Shayler was totally ready to get extremely inebriated with her besties until, at the last minute, Rebecca dropped out because of an alleged test. Instead of being at the bar, hearing stories about Rebecca’s sex life, she was stuck riding backseat in Ansley’s car, on the way to some weird poetry reading with Trish and Debbie.

  “Tell me again why we’re going?” Shayler asked, chipping away at her scarlet nail polish and mentally cursing Ansley for picking up on the blonde’s habit.

  “I get extra credit in my lit class,” Trish said. “And there are supposed to be some real hotties.”

  Okay, that didn’t sound too bad to Shayler, but she was still grouchy from Rebecca canceling. Rebecca had never canceled before. But now she had Derek, and her friends and fun times were left in the dust.

  “I heard Trent’s performing,” Debbie said from the front seat. She flicked her tight braids behind her and put a hand on the center console.

  “Who’s Trent?” Shayler asked.

  Ansley peeked at her through the rearview mirror. “Some guy in Deb’s accounting class.”

  “He’s gorgeous and brainy,” Trish explained. “Total package.”

  Shayler smiled. “Ooh, did you guys fuck yet?”

  “Ugh, no.”

  Shayler narrowed her eyes. When had Debbie become a prude? “Why not?”

  “It’s not like that with us. I like him.”

  “You can like him and have sex with him.”

  “Shay, I really like him.”

  Shayler sunk back into her seat. They were two minutes from the self-proclaimed quirky bookstore, and she was already bored to death. If Rebecca were there, at least she’d have someone to tease or discuss the latest episode of The Flash with. If her best friend were there, she’d have someone’s sex life she could vicariously live through.

  Shayler huffed. Last night, she’d gotten off to a cologne commercial. An actual male perfume ad had gotten her wet. It hadn’t even been more than a minute long, and that’s all it’d taken. If she didn’t get laid tonight, there’d be no hope.

  Kyle was off her list, but some sappy wordsmith? Hopefully they’d be willing. She’d always wanted to feel like Kate had in Titanic. Maybe someone would paint her nude after they had sex. It was better than thinking she’d face another night alone with her battery-operated lover.

  Once they parked and hopped out, Debbie spun and raised her arms. “How do I look?”

  “Great,” Ansley said.

  “Perf!” Trish said.

  Shayler gave a thumbs-up and managed to erase the frown from her face for a few seconds.

  They strutted into the bookstore, all three girls looking way more casual than Shayler. If she’d known before boarding Ansley’s little convertible that they were headed to a poetry slam, she would’ve ditched the stiletto boots and sparkly off-the-shoulder top.

  The door chimed as they opened it, giving way to an array of circle and square tables all surrounding a makeshift stage. In front of the teen section was a microphone and behind it was a girl whose dark skin was tinted a light pink. Shayler gave her props for a sick sense of style. With combat boots, a sleeve of bangles, and bright red lipstick, she looked pretty kickass. Though it was obvious from the way the girl glanced at her feet and tugged on her bracelets that she wasn’t enjoying the attention. It reminded Shayler of Rebecca.

  The girl finished her p
rose as Shayler and her friends sat at their own table. Some members of the audience snapped their fingers, but the noise was so quiet she doubted the girl could hear it. Shayler stood up and cheered until her throat felt like she’d swallowed a roll of sandpaper. Debbie and Trish hid their faces behind their hands as Ansley slid down in her seat.

  Shayler plopped back down as they waited for the next reader. “You didn’t happen to hide a box of wine in those jeans, did you?”

  “No,” Ansley said. “Not like you need it.”

  “She was nervous, and she was really good. I was supporting her.”

  “They do the silent applause thing here. You know, snaps?”

  “Oh, of course. How could I not know of such formalities?”

  “So happy you came, Shayler,” Ansley muttered.

  “Me too, Ans. Me too.”

  Debbie and Trish left to hit up the café in the back of the store while Shayler crossed her arms, eyeing the place. It wasn’t as quirky as their Instagram had made it seem. Normal, tan-colored shelves were organized in perfectly aligned rows. White fairy lights twinkled from the ceiling and draped over the crown molding, and there was a smell of roasted coffee grounds that made it feel almost modern. Shayler didn’t mind it too much, aside from the lack of alcohol and danceable music. It was cozy, like her dad’s office.

  “Cappuccino and an iced latte with four sugars and two pumps of hazelnut,” Trish said as she passed the drinks to Ansley and Shayler.

  Shayler stared at her glass. “This could never replace tequila.”

  “Shut up and drink it, you lush,” Debbie said, sipping on her own cappuccino.

  Shayler brought the straw to her mouth, prepared to ingest the caffeine as fast as possible for a max rush when she noticed something. Not something, someone.

  She tilted her head and squinted. Ken what’s-his-last-name was less than thirty feet away from her, looking nerdy cute in his blazer and superman shirt. Even his thick-rimmed glasses were adorkable. Doable. Everything about him was absolutely doable. She glanced at Ansley and nodded her head in his direction.

  “Ken,” she whispered. “It’s Ken!”

  Ansley peeled her gaze away from the lanky guy who was walking up to the mic and stared at Ken. She scrunched her nose. “So?”