by S. M. Shade
He can have the damn car.
“Fine. I’ll get the keys.” He makes a move to step inside, but I slam and lock the door in his face.
All three of my roommates stare at me, mouths agape as I lean against the door and cover my mouth with my hand. Holy shit, that felt good. So many years in the making.
Zara is the first to speak. “He can’t take your car!”
“Actually, he can.” I grab the keys and head to the kitchen for an empty bag. “The title is in his name. Will one of you go out with me and help me grab my stuff from the glove box and trunk? There isn’t much.”
Serena takes the bag from me. “Of course.”
A smile grows on my face as I watch the three of them slip on shoes to go with me to face my father. When I step outside, I can’t believe who I see standing beside him.
Stanley. What the hell is my ex doing here? My brother and his friends humiliated and scared him off weeks ago. The sight of him is a shock and I stop like I’ve run into a wall, causing Zara to bump into my back. “I don’t believe this,” I snap.
I push the button on the key fob to unlock the car and turn to Serena. “Can you grab the stuff out of the glovebox and seat? I’ll get the trunk.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
The girls aren’t the only ones watching this craptacular moment. Half the neighborhood seems to have filtered out to watch this show. My plan to ignore my father and Stanley while I clean out the car doesn’t work. Stanley reaches out and grabs my arm as I stalk past him, and I jerk it away with a hiss. “Don’t touch me.”
Gavin, the guy from a few doors down approaches us. “Kelly, is everything okay?”
“I’m good. As long as he keeps his hands off me.”
Gavin isn’t that much bigger than Stanley. Only an inch or so taller and a bit wider in the chest, but his tank top shows well muscled arms, and his whole demeanor says we both know I could kick your ass when he glares at Stanley.
Stanley appears to agree since he takes a step back before speaking. “I just came to talk. It doesn’t have to be this way. Come back to me. You won’t lose your car or have to work. I bought a nice house for us.”
Anger races through me, heating my blood. Before I can sputter out the words to tell him off, Zara speaks up. “What kind of offer is that? Just give up your independence and come prostitute yourself for a car?” The indignant tone of her voice makes me smile through the rage. “She doesn’t need a sugar daddy.”
“Pfft,” Remee scoffs, coming up beside me. “Look at him. He’s no one’s sugar daddy.”
Serena circles the car, the bag of my belongings in hand, and pushes past him. “Hey, Papa Artificial Sweetener, move your ass and let her get her stuff.”
“Kelly,” he says, ignoring the insult. “If we can just talk for a moment alone.”
The guy just doesn’t give up. And it’s not because he cares about me or loves me. No, it’s because he thinks he’s entitled to me. I’m the little rich girl he chose and how dare I trade him in for such a lifestyle as this? He truly can’t wrap his ugly head around it.
“Can you grab another bag for some of this stuff?” I ask Serena, and she nods, heading back into the house.
When I take a few steps away from the trunk, I can feel all the neighbors’ eyes on me, along with my father’s glare. He hasn’t said a word, just stood back with his arms crossed, watching.
Squaring my shoulders, I look Stanley in the eye. “The fact that you would actually try to get me back, knowing the only reason I’d agree is because I’m being blackmailed over a car, screams everything anyone would need to know about what kind of man you are. You’re pathetic. Stay away from me.”
“Woo! You tell’em, girl!” My head whips around to see an elderly lady in a wheelchair, cheering me on. Vera is her name, if I remember correctly. This whole scene would be funny if it weren’t so humiliating.
Serena returns, and Zara steps around to the open trunk with her again while I watch Stanley stalk off toward my parents’ car. It’s then I see my mother climb out of the passenger seat. Wow, they really brought the whole family for this mess. Maybe I should’ve invited Trey.
It’s harder to face my mother’s pleading face than my father’s furious one but as soon as she speaks, my resolve strengthens.
“Oh, Kelly, look at your hair! Haven’t you been treating it? And your nails desperately need a manicure. Please. You don’t want to live like this. Look what you’re doing to yourself.”
By the way she’s reacting, you’d think I’d just rolled out of a dumpster and shook the garbage off me. My expression must show what I think of her judgement because she changes her tactic.
She talks to me in the voice you’d use when a dog has something in its mouth, and you don’t want it to run. “You don’t have to marry Stanley. I understand if he’s not the right one for you. Come home and we’ll find someone more suitable.”
“No.”
She still doesn’t get it, and I’m not going to try to explain for the umpteenth time while my neighbors watch. I’m not defending my choices or trying to get her to accept them. I’ve already said what I needed to say, and this time no is a complete sentence. “While you’re in town, Mom, why don’t you visit Trey and Rowan? Don’t you want to see your only grandchild?”
She winces and glances at my father, who tosses the car keys to Stanley. “You drive this one back,” he orders. Pointing his glare at me, he adds, “Your phone will be disconnected tonight.”
I saw ahead on this one and I can’t help the small smile that grows when I inform him. “No, it won’t. I transferred off of your plan onto my own service. Unless you have something else you want to threaten me with, just go.”
His cheeks redden and he glances around at the small crowd hanging on our every word. Indecision is written in every line of his face, but finally, he snaps at Mom. “Get in the car. We’re going.”
Serena and Zara wander over to join Remee and a few others on the sidewalk. When I start toward the apartment, wanting to put this whole ugly scene behind me, Serena grabs my arm.
“Wait,” she says softly.
My father backs out first and when he pulls away, I see a sign taped to the back of his car. Driver loves cock. Honk if you want a threesome.
“Oh my god,” I snort, and laughter fills the air around me.
Though he’s had every chance to notice it, Stanley doesn’t glance that way, and Dad has made it far enough away now that he can’t see it. His eyes are on me as he backs the car up and pulls out of the spot, probably still in shock he didn’t get what he wanted.
When he pulls away, cheers are added to the laughter, and I cover my mouth at the sight of the sign affixed to the back of what is no longer my car.
Fist me like a Muppet. I love it.
“That one was my idea,” Serena says through her laughter.
I’m screwed without that car. I have a job and school to get to and no idea now how to manage it, but at the moment, I can’t even bring myself to care. When things are all falling apart around you, sometimes all you can do is laugh, then scoop up the pieces and try to fix it.
I can do this.
Chapter Four
Kelly
A downside of living in a small or moderate sized town is the lack of public transportation. There are no buses, only taxis and Rideshare, which will get expensive real fast. My new job isn’t far, only a couple of miles down the road in a small shopping plaza. School is farther. It would be a long walk, but not a bad bike ride.
As much as I hate dipping into my limited savings, I don’t see another option, so Remee gives me a ride to the Supercenter to shop for a bicycle. I find one that isn’t too expensive and grab a few other items I assume I’ll be needing now, like a lunch box and a backpack. I won’t be able to stop by my car between classes to grab a book anymore.
The lack of a car will make me spend more time on the campus, since I have some time gaps between classes that won’t be worth
riding all the way back home for. Hopefully, I’ll have time to make it home and dump my books before going to work.
While I’m chaining my new bike to the back of our apartment, Serena sticks her head out of the back door. “Change of plans. Party is moving to the guys’ apartment. We’re going to Rideshare over so we can still get wasted. Go get ready.”
I glance down at the jeans and t-shirt I’m wearing. Yeah, I guess I should change. What are you supposed to wear to a college party held in an apartment? Is it like you see on TV with beer pong, half naked girls, couples making out everywhere and guys sucking beers through a funnel and hose?
A pair of dark shorts and tight tank top are what I settle on. I may not have huge boobs to display, but my stomach is nice and flat. Might as well show it off. My long red hair is up in a high ponytail, leaving a few strands to hang around my face. Mom acted like she was meeting a swamp monster or something, but I’m satisfied with what I see when I take a final look in the mirror.
My skin is perpetually pale, but the sun has covered my nose and cheeks in the tiniest of pink freckles, giving my face a rosier hue. The bright blue eyes that have stared back at me since childhood haven’t changed or dimmed, and I’ve put on a few pounds that fill out my ass and thighs since I don’t have anyone judging me over what I eat.
“Car’s here!” Zara shouts, and I quickly grab my phone, bank card, and driver’s license, shoving them into my pocket. I don’t want to keep track of a purse all night and I have a bad habit of losing things when I drink.
The apartment complex where the party is being held is across town, about twenty minutes away. Serena starts filling me in on the guys who live there.
“Owen is the goofy one. He’s nice, but a total clown. Marty will absolutely hit on you. Don’t fall for it. He hits on anything with a wet spot. He’s fun and nice and everything, but a total man whore. Graham is the boring one.”
“You mean the responsible one,” Remee interjects.
“He’s the dad of the group,” Zara clarifies. “All of the guys are great, though. They’re sure to have a houseful. It’s a good opportunity to meet some guys and see if there’s anyone you’re interested in.”
“Don’t feel pressured,” Remee says. “You don’t have to find Prince Charming at your first house party. Just have fun.”
Fun. Right. I can do that.
As soon as the door to the apartment is thrown open, I hear my name. “Kelly!”
It’s Owen from Adulting Club. The guy who kept joking with Mr. Aldrich. I should’ve made that connection when I heard his name. “Hey.”
All three girls’ heads swivel to look at me. “He’s in my after school club. I didn’t realize it was the same Owen.”
“What club?” Remee asks as we step inside.
“Oh, uh, it’s a club that teaches life skills like how to change a tire, stuff like that.”
The loud music when we enter kills the conversation, and I glance around the apartment. There aren’t as many people as I thought there might be, but enough to make me feel out of place and a little nervous. Some mill around, drinks in hand, while others gather around the couch, watching two guys play a video game.
Zara grabs my arm and pulls me along to the kitchen with them. “Come on, let’s grab a drink.”
It’s not quite as loud in here and there’s more than enough alcohol to choose from. Bottles cover the small counter. Zara has to shift around bottles of beer and wine in the fridge to add the drinks we brought.
With a grin, she turns back around and hands me a tiny plastic cup. “Jell-O shots!”
“Grab me one,” Owen calls to her, and hops up to sit on the kitchen counter. The guy standing beside him smiles at me.
“Hi, I’m Graham.”
“Kelly. Nice to meet you.”
We all take the shot and once I swallow, I notice Owen staring at me. “Huh. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a partier.”
“I’m not, really.”
Graham shakes his head at Serena, a smile on his face. “Are you corrupting her?”
She points at him while handing me another shot. “Don’t start with me. I’m not a bad influence.”
Owen snorts. “Says the chick who works at a breastaurant.”
“Where I make more money than you,” Serena says in a syrupy sweet voice.
“Where’s Marty?” Zara asks. “I didn’t see any guy nipples on our way in.”
“He went to get ice.”
Zara grins at the questioning look I throw her. “Any time there’s an attractive woman in the vicinity, off comes Marty’s shirt.”
“Serena’s here, though. He’ll probably keep it on,” Graham says.
Serena leans against the table, straightening her back. The corner of her mouth twitches when Graham’s eyes jump to her boobs for a split second, like they have a mind of their own. “This thing you have for me really isn’t healthy, Graham. At some point, you have to accept I’m out of your league.”
Before they can keep at it, a guy walks in carrying two huge bags of ice, one on each shoulder. Damn, he’s tall. Probably six foot four at least, with light brown curly hair that he blows out of his eyes. “Stop going after my woman, dude. You know I have dibs.”
“Oh my god.” Zara covers her face with her hand momentarily. “You can’t call dibs on a person.”
I open the freezer and step back so he can put the ice inside. After he closes the door, he regards me, and a smile leaps across his face. “Well, hi.” He glances up at the guys then back to me. “What’s your name?”
“Kelly. You must be Marty.”
His eyes roam down my body and back up. It’s more playful than creepy. “Did my good looks give me away?”
“No, but I’ve been warned that you hit on everything with boobs, so I put two and two together.”
Laughter echoes around the room, and Graham points to an oversized Jenga game set up on the table against the wall. “Jell-O shot Jenga?”
Marty pops open his beer and pulls off his shirt. “Let’s do it.”
The next few hours are more fun than I expected. The guys are a lot of fun, and I love the way they go back and forth with my friends. It’s clear they’re all close. It doesn’t seem like a bad group to be a part of.
I meet a few other people throughout the night, but no guys who stand out. Oh well, there’s no hurry. This is what I wanted. To have a life of my own. Some fun.
I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, and it doesn’t take long for the shots to catch up with me. I stick to beer after that, but I’m still nowhere near sober when someone suggests we go for a swim. It’s after midnight and a lot of the other people have left. There’s still a small group in the living room playing video games.
“Where are we going to swim at midnight?” I ask.
“We have a pool here,” Owen says.
“That closed about four hours ago,” Graham points out from his spot on the couch, his eyes never leaving the TV screen.
“Shut up, Dad!” Owen grins at Marty, who nods.
“I can pick that lock no problem.”
Break into the pool for a midnight swim? My mind races with the thought and something occurs to me. This feels like a line. One that the old obedient, careful Kelly wouldn’t cross. Which is probably why I want to stomp across it. Or, you know, it’s the alcohol. Either way. I glance at the girls. “I’m in.”
“Holy shit, we have corrupted her,” Serena squeals, hugging me. “Let’s go.”
I notice they’re leaving their purses and bags, so I hand Serena my phone and stuff from my pockets to keep in her purse.
The night is hot and sticky, the late summer humidity hanging in the air. Graham stays behind at the apartment, while Owen, Marty, and a few others from the party creep down the darkened street with me and the girls.
“We don’t have our swimsuits,” I hiss, suddenly remembering.
“Skinny dipping,” Marty sings.
“No way,” Remee argues. �
��I’m keeping underwear on.”
I’m glad I wore a dark bra and boyshort panties. The thought of stripping down to them in front of everyone should make me panic but instead I feel a surge of excitement.
The pool sits at one end of the apartment complex, surrounded by a shoulder high chain link fence. A few light poles surround it, but the domes are dark. They must only be used during the evening and turned off at closing.
We’re half hidden in shadows as Marty tries to pick the lock on the gate. It doesn’t take him long to get it unlocked.
“How do you know how to do that?” I ask as we enter.
One side of his mouth darts up. “You impressed?”
“More curious if you’re a criminal.”
“My dad is a locksmith.” He leans down and his next words are close to my ear. “And this is breaking and entering, so technically, you’re also a criminal now.”
Wouldn’t Dad be proud? “I guess we can add indecent exposure to that charge,” I giggle, catching up with the girls who are already stripping down.
“Not one of us thought to grab a towel,” Remee says, tossing her shirt aside.
“We don’t need towels!” Marty exclaims and pulls off his shorts with a flourish.
Okay, that’s a penis.
Just be cool. It’s not going to attack you. It’s just sitting there looking all penis-y. Act natural. Like penises get whipped out around you every day. Like you’re so used to seeing random genitals that you’re positively bored with it.
Oh look, ho hum, a penis.
Do they all lean to the left like that? Or can guys control it? Can they just flex and move them side to side like a windshield wiper?
“I think I broke her,” Marty says, and I realize I’m just frozen in place, staring at it.
My cheeks heat as much from the laughter as from the actual unexpected dick sighting. “Shut up. I was thinking it’s gross you don’t wear underwear.”
