Special Delivery

by Reagan Shaw

  I looked down at my modest blouse, my worn backpack straps, and my baggy jeans, then back at her, shifting my glasses up my nose. “Yeah, Jess, I could probably scream I’ve got a cock in either hand and a mouthful of semen, and no one would believe I’d lost my virginity yet.”

  Jess, who just happened to be one of the most popular girls in high school and was crushing hardcore on my brother Marc, nodded sagely. “Gross. So gross, but true. You know, I didn’t think of it like that. I guess there are pros to being the class nerd, right?”

  “Apart from the potential to get into Ivy League schools, you mean?” I quipped.

  She slapped my arm. “You know, for a dork, you’re kinda mean.”

  “And that’s exactly why no one’s given me a swirly yet.” Emphasis on the “yet.” There were tons of girls in this school who’d like to give me more than just a swirly. Probably the Carrie treatment. I’d avoided it through a kick-ass attitude and my friendship with Jess. She’d blossomed early, and I’d clung to my mousiness for way longer.

  We worked as besties, and that was all that mattered to me.

  Finally, we entered the changing room and put down our bags. I shoved my books into it, then headed for the locker I’d been assigned at the beginning of the school year. Naturally, it was right next to Nancy Tyler’s—aforementioned pro-ho and total bitch-bag in chief. She gave me the side-eye but ignored me after and made a huge show of stripping down to her underwear in front of all the girls.

  Naturally, they were lacy, a matching bra and thong, and she strutted around showing off, even though lacey underwear was officially against the dress code.

  I stripped down to my modest white cotton bikinis and matching bra, keeping my gaze fixed on the pictures of the pyramids and Egypt plastered along the inside of my locker door. I’d always wanted to go, and fantasizing about going there was so much easier than dealing with Nancy’s girl talk.

  Still her voice drifted through the locker room, loud, piercing, like a high-pitched foghorn in pretty panties.

  “Guess who’s got a date for prom!” she called out.

  “Who?” Penny Leckwith asked, scratching the tip of her nose. She wasn’t the brightest in the bunch, but she was pretty popular herself, and sporting a pair of pink lacy undies and bra.

  “Me, duh!”

  We were a whole year away from Senior Prom, which meant that one of the senior class dudes had invited her. Big whoop. She was likely going to give it up on prom night to whoever her date was, so it was natural she’d get invited. The thong and bra said it all. Mmm, yeah, I was a little jealous, but whatever. I’d earmarked an episode of Walker Texas Ranger for that night, anyway.

  “Who with?” Jess piped up, where she changed at the locker on the other side of mine.

  I made quick work of pulling on my shorts and shirt, then stepped out of my flats and into sneakers, bent to tie them.

  Nancy’s bare feet appeared beside me. I didn’t look up at her.

  “Guess,” she said. “Better yet, Erika, why don’t you guess who it is?”

  I finished tying my laces and rose, facing Nancy, or rather, facing her ample breasts. She was taller than me, and I looked up at her to meet her gaze. “Nancy, I don’t know why I’d give a rat’s ass about who you’re going to fuck at prom.”

  A chorus of oohs rang out, and a couple of the other girls laughed. This was a prime example of why no one had dared shove my head down a toilet or pull a tampon prank on me just yet. I was feisty as hell.

  I shut my locker and sat back on the bench in the center of the row, to wait.

  “You’ll care when you find out who it is.” Nancy placed her hands on her hips and thrust her chest outward. “It’s Noah Cox. What do you think of that?”

  Ice dropped in my gut, but I kept my gaze as blank as possible.

  Jessie slammed her locker shut and glared at Nancy. “Why do you have to be such a bitch all the time, Nance? Why can’t you just be normal?”

  “Oh come on, I’m just having a little fun.” Nancy sauntered forward and leaned over, exposing herself further. She was tan everywhere. No white bikini lines, and everyone knew what that meant. “You’re not jealous, are you, Erika?”

  Coach Turner appeared at the other end of the locker room and blew a whistle. “All right, ladies, hurry it up. We don’t have all damn day.”

  “You should be,” Nancy continued, this time under her breath as the girls hurried to finish dressing. “Because we all know you have a massive thing for him. And he definitely has a massive thing, just not for you.” She giggled, pressing four perfectly manicured fingers to her lips.

  “Get bent, Tyler.”

  Nancy’s eyes flashed. “Oh, I plan on it. This Saturday night.”

  I burst from the bench and pushed past the half-naked girl, striding away from the coach and toward the exit to the locker room. “Gray!” Coach Turner yelled. “Hey, Gray, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  I didn’t reply but pushed out into the hall instead, breathing hard. I walked to the corner, turned it, then rested my back against the wall, squeezed my eyes shut. This was so dumb. This was so damn dumb. Nancy didn’t matter. Neither did Noah, really. I had other things to do. I’d never wanted to be that girl who dated guys. I’d wanted… What?

  Him. I just want him.

  “No,” I muttered.

  I wanted to go to Egypt. I wanted to go on vacation. I wanted to study to be a paleontologist, or maybe…something else. And I’d grow up as a successful whatever I chose, and then I’d have a family of my own. A baby.

  That brought a small smile to my face. A family. A Christmas. We’d be happy. And that would all come after high school, after all this dumb crap had faded into background nothingness.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered. “I’m fine now, and I’ll be better than fine later. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Talking to yourself is a symptom of insanity, you know.” The voice came from directly beside me, and I jumped and let out a scream, backpedaled a few steps.

  Noah leaned against the nearby wall, his arms folded across his burly chest, his school jacket puffy in colors of red and yellow. “Did I scare you?”

  “No,” I said, “that’s just how I communicate.”

  “You need to work on it, four-eyes. That’s a bad way to make friends.”

  “I don’t want to be friends.”

  Noah looked me up and down from head to toe, licked his lips, and smirked. “You think I don’t already know that?”

  “I heard you were going to prom with Nancy Tyler.” It came out of me like I’d meant to say it. But I hadn’t.

  “Why do you care, short stuff?” Noah asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Erika. Shit, I thought you hated me. I thought you knew how much you annoyed me.” His expression darkened.

  I took a single step backward. “Hmm, I don’t really care.”

  “You don’t, huh? Then why bring it up?” He was such an asshole. Skipping class, taunting me. I withheld a scream of frustration, tamped it down tight.

  “Just to warn you,” I said, and turned on my heel, walking back to the corner.

  “Warn me about what, four-eyes?”

  I paused and cast a glance back at him, over my shoulder.

  Gosh, did he have to be so sinfully handsome? So perfect American quarterback? He was trouble. Rumor had it he’d already been arrested once for rebelling against the system—a.k.a. vandalism—but the accusations and charges had fallen from him like water sliding down a duck’s back.

  “To use protection,” I said, at last. “Nancy’s, um, not a virgin. Let’s leave it at that.” It was a low blow, and I totally hated myself for it, but the fact that I’d wiped the smirk off his face was prize enough. I tossed my hair in its ponytail, then turned the corner and pranced off, back down the hall to the locker room.

  I entered it and found it emptying. Nancy was still at her locker, of course, since she was always the last one to get dre
ssed. She loved lingering in her underwear with her perfectly toned and top-heavy body, way developed for a girl in the eleventh grade.

  “Oh, glad you could join us,” Nancy hissed as I passed. “Are you done crying now?”

  I paused and looked at her, shaking my head. I gave a rueful sigh. “Nancy, has anyone ever told you that you try way too hard? Like, nobody cares. Literally, nobody cares who you fuck, or who you date, or what you do with your life. Nobody here at least. So just stick in your lane, and I’ll stick in mine.”

  I walked off, relishing the shocked expression that had replaced the malevolence.

  Coach Tyler eyed me as I passed. “You good to go, Gray?”

  “I’m fine, Coach,” I said. “I had, um, an emergency, but it blew over. I’m fine.”

  “Good, because I don’t have time for idiots in my gym. Now, let’s move it.”

  I walked past her, and we filtered out of the locker room, down the adjoining hall and into the gym. I wasn’t looking forward to sweating it out now, but anything was better than standing around in that locker room or talking to Noah.

  The fact was, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t just dismiss him, mentally, as much as I wanted to. There was always something there. Some little candle I held for him, even though he was such a prime asshole.

  Jock. Bad boy. Most handsome guy in the school. And he hated me.

  So why, oh why, couldn’t I get him out of my head? Or out of my heart?

  Maybe I’ll know, one day, what it all means. Maybe.

  Erika

  “Hello, Earth to Erika,” Luna said, and waved a hand in front of my face. “You totally zoned out there for a second.”

  “Sorry,” I replied, and twirled the long-stemmed glass between my fingertips. “Sorry, it’s been one helluva long day.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve, girl. Tonight is the night for celebration.” Luna’s version of celebration had always been different from mine. She preferred upper-class dining, champagne, and gentle tinkling music, while I’d have settled for a homemade pizza, a beer, and a night in front of the TV watching cheesy Christmas movies.

  Maybe that was why we’d become such good friends. We were total opposites in most regards, and because of that, we experienced totally different things with each other.

  Right now, all I had to experience was a deep sense of regret, and a sharp pain in my chest each time I thought of Noah.

  Around us, everything was perfect. The tables in the restaurant were filled with couples or families dining quietly by candlelight while waiters flittered around bringing pea-sized portions out to be devoured. I’d already had two appetizers, and I still wasn’t satisfied.

  “We should have just grabbed a pizza,” I grumbled, and Luna clicked her tongue at me.

  “Do you really think I’m going to let you sit alone in some crummy hotel room stuffing your face full of pizza on Christmas Eve? Come on, girl, don’t you know me at all?”

  “Oh, I do, but that doesn’t stop me from protesting,” I said, and took a sip of the champagne. “Where’s your dad, by the way? Thought he would join us tonight?”

  “No, he’s decided to sleep in. The old man’s, well, getting old, I guess. Besides, this is way better. You and I haven’t had an opportunity to girl talk since the apartment’s plumbing crapped out. I’ve been dying to talk to you about everything.”

  I hadn’t been dying to discuss anything tonight. “Luna, I’m really, oh, I don’t know. I’m just an idiot I guess.” I shrugged, refusing the lump in my throat. “I fell for it. I fell for him. I knew from the start that it was dangerous, but I did it anyway. Noah was always emotionally defunct, and I just let myself fall for it.”

  “So? Maybe that’s what you needed? This was just a rebound, that’s all. Now that you’ve gotten it out of your system, you can focus on you again.”

  “Focus on me?” I asked. “What part of me? There’s nothing much left to focus on right now. I tendered my resignation at work, I have nowhere to live until the apartment’s done, and after this next hellish month of working at St. Katherine’s and possibly running into Noah there on an almost-daily basis, I’ll have literally nowhere to work. Oh, and it’s Christmas, and I’m not with family.”

  “Yeah, you’re stuck here with me. Boo hoo,” Luna said.

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  “Wouldn’t hurt you to say it once in a while.” Luna drained the last drops of her champagne and held out the glass. A waiter materialized, as if out of nowhere, and whisked it out of her hand, replacing it with a full one. “Why don’t you just stay at St. Katherine’s?”

  “I can’t,” I said. “Just, ethically, that doesn’t sit well with me. I feel like I didn’t earn that position, and that’s… It’s like everything I’m doing there is corrupted. I don’t like that sensation. And anyway, it would mean being around Noah, and doing that is just damn stupid. Apparently, I can’t get over my high-school crush.”

  “Hmm, I think you’ve moved past high-school crush by now.”

  “True, but you know what I mean.” I drank the last of my champagne and set the glass aside on the table. A waiter, once again, appeared and removed it, then replaced it with a full one. It was like being followed around by a friendly, champagne-producing ghost.

  “Well, look,” Luna said, “it’s not too long until the apartment will be ready. I’ll lean on daddy dearest and ask him to lean on the contractors. And then we’ll have a place to stay. And you can look for another job. Problem solved.”

  “Is it? I’m still rooming with you. I’m thirty-four. Normal people our age have houses.”

  “They do?” Luna asked, and slurped on her champagne like she was sippin’ on tea. “My, I am behind the times. I’m still allowing my daddy to pay my bills.”

  “You’re a trust-fund baby, Luna. It’s different for you.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe you’re right, but I don’t see why that should worry you. You’re paying your rent, and if you miss a few months, I know you’ll make it up to me. I trust you. Don’t stress about it, OK?”

  “I’ll try my best not to,” I said, and licked my lips as the waiter appeared with our impossibly small mains. Thankfully, I’d thought to order two. One plate of lobster ravioli with a braised butter sauce, and one portion of the Christmas goose.

  We tucked in, me disregarding whatever order the knives and forks were supposed to be used in, and Luna cutting her bite-sized portion into even smaller portions.

  “Maybe I should just leave New York,” I said. “Maybe I should go back to Chicago. I’ve got a license to practice medicine in both.”

  “You’d really do that?” Luna asked, pausing with a pea halfway to her mouth. “Chicago? After everything that happened there?”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just tells me that you were more hurt by what happened with Noah than what happened with Jason, and that says something to me,” Luna replied.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. It says that you feel more for him than you’re letting on. Something I’ve suspected for a while.”

  I waved my fork at her, chewing neatly. “Let’s change the subject. I’m not a fan of dissecting this even further, thank you very much.” My gaze danced past Luna as three men entered the restaurant through the glass, bronze-trimmed front doors. My heart twisted into a knot of frayed arteries and veins. “Oh. Fuck.”

  “What?” Luna asked, turning in her seat. “Oh. Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  It was Noah. Noah was here, with two other men, one ginger, the other graying, but refined. Neither of them was Marc, thank god. I lowered my gaze to the plate and refused to look up. “This isn’t happening,” I muttered. “Why would he be here? Why tonight?”

  “This is the place to be for Christmas Eve dinner in New York,” Luna said. “They’ve literally manufactured their menu for it.”

  “Well, ca
n they manufacture me an escape route? A passage directly through the earth and to the molten core? I’d rather burn alive right now than—”

  “Shush,” Luna hissed. “He’s coming over.”

  “Please, please tell me you’re joking.”

  A presence swaggered into view and made itself known next to our table. I sipped my champagne and ignored the suited man standing next to us, forced myself to put the glass down and cut up my tiny piece of roast goose.

  “Erika,” he said, sending prickles of anger and need down my spine.

  Noah

  The fact that she was here, fuck, it had to mean something. I’d wanted to call her today, to find her, to make sure she was OK, but I’d figured she wouldn’t have answered. When the call had come through from Barry and Greg, asking me to join them for Christmas Eve dinner at the Chestnut, I’d had nothing better to do to take my mind off her.

  And now, this.

  “Erika,” I repeated.

  She finally dropped her knife and fork, the cutlery clattering against the fine china, drawing a wince from a nearby waiter. “Stalking me again?” Erika asked, meeting my gaze.

  Fuck. She was gorgeous. Her hair loose around her shoulders, her eyes done up so that they were shadowy gray, more pronounced. Her lips were fire-truck red, and she wore that same red dress she’d chosen for our night out, what felt like years ago rather than a week. Her handbag was strung over the back of her chair, her coat nowhere in sight.

  “You’re staring,” her friend remarked. Luna. She was here. That was good. Did that mean their apartment really was done? That they could move in again and Erika would be safe?

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  “No, we really don’t. I told you I don’t want to see you again, Noah, and I expected you to respect that.”

  “I can’t help we’re at the same fucking restaurant.” It came out in a low growl. “And now that we’re here, I realize that not seeing each other again is out of the question. There are things you don’t understand.”