by Jacie Lennon
“Next,” Seth says, not even paying attention, and Mom stops her gasping, glancing at him and then back to me.
“It doesn’t quite work on your frame, dear,” she says, obviously trying hard to agree with Seth.
I roll my eyes. This is the shopping trip from hell.
“Oh my God, I forgot to video-chat Peyton,” Landry says, pulling her phone out. “I’m calling her now.” She brings her phone up as the dial tone rings throughout the room, and then I hear Peyton answer. “Were you asleep?” Landry asks, brows furrowed.
“Yeah, it’s midnight here,” Peyton says, sounding groggy.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Landry says, and I roll my eyes, having forgotten about the time change.
“It’s okay. I’m on the couch in the media room with the guys. I must have passed out during the movie.”
My interest is piqued when she says that, but I refuse to ask anything about Bodhi.
“Okay, well, since you are awake, stay up and watch Trixie try on dresses,” Landry says.
I turn to head back to the dressing room. Julia helps me out of the dress, hanging it back up and passing it to someone outside of the room to re-rack.
“Which one would you like to try on next?” Julia asks in a heavy French accent.
“This one,” I say with a soft smile, fingering the material of the dress I picked out.
“It’s one of my favorites,” Julia says, smiling as she removes it from the hanger.
She helps me step into it, sliding it up my body, and I slip my hands into the gauzy sleeves. As she fastens the back, I admire it, smoothing my hands down the front of it. It’s perfection, and I adore it. I hate to waste it on my sham of a marriage.
I can hear Landry talking as I come around the side of the mirrors, and she spots me, a huge grin on her face.
“It’s beautiful,” she says and then looks back at the phone. “You have to see this one,” she says to Peyton.
A second later, Peyton’s voice comes out of the speaker. “Oh my God, yes, that’s beautiful. You are beautiful,” she says.
I grin over my shoulder from where I’m standing, staring into the mirror.
“No,” is all Seth says, and I ball my hands into fists. He’s mad that I haven’t tried his pick on.
“I like this one,” I say as I turn. He doesn’t even bother looking at me.
“No,” he says again, and Mom shakes her head at me.
Don’t push him. Take it off. Try another one, she seems to say.
I’m disgusted by them.
I step off the platform, Julia rushing to adjust the train so I don’t trip over it. Landry still has the phone turned my way, so I can see Peyton.
“You love it?” I ask her, and her face lights up with another smile.
“I do,” she says.
Then, I watch her head turn, and she talks to someone off camera. Then, the screen looks shaky as her face disappears. I wait for her to come back on the screen, but then my mouth opens in shock when it’s not Peyton peering back at me.
I can’t say anything as I watch Bodhi’s eyes rake over me in my dress, a blank expression on his face. It feels like the silence stretches out for hours, but it could only be a couple of seconds.
My palms start sweating, and my heart beats a little faster as his mouth opens.
“You look like a fucking whore,” he says. It comes through the speaker clear as day.
Landry’s mouth drops open, and my mom covers her mouth with her hand.
“What the fuck?” Seth says, leaning over, trying to grab Landry’s phone.
She pulls it to her chest as she tries to get away from him.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Peyton’s voice comes from the phone.
Julia stands next to me, shifting back and forth on her feet. I’m frozen in place, the blood draining from my face as I repeat his words over and over in my head.
Fucking whore. Fucking whore. Fucking whore.
My earlier daydream of standing across from him in this dress is smashed into a thousand pieces, and I suddenly want to reach up and tear it from my body. This dress, so loved only moments before, is now a dark spot in my mind.
“Pey, call us back tomorrow once you get up,” Landry hurriedly says before hanging up.
I turn to Julia, who is glancing between all of us, looking lost.
“I’d like to change, please,” I say, pasting on a smile and turning to walk back to my dressing room.
I’m exhausted by the time we leave, tears pricking my eyes as I sit with my head against the headrest in our car. Thankfully, Landry is the only one with me. Mom stayed behind to finalize the purchase. I picked the one Seth had wanted; after all, this wedding is all about him.
Or is it?
I still can’t be sure what the real impetus behind it is.
“Well, that was a shitshow,” Landry says, grabbing my hand across the backseat. “He’s wrong, you know?”
“Who?”
“Bodhi. You didn’t look like a whore.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shrug. The words still cutting.
“He’s an asshole.”
“I don’t want to talk about him or Seth or any boy anymore,” I say, reaching up to rub my temples.
This trip has only gone from bad to worse. I can’t wait to be home again, where I’m not within reach of Seth, who tried to get me to go with him at the end of the fitting. Thankfully, I was able to weasel out of it with the help of Landry.
“Where do you want to go first?”
“I want to go to a café and stuff my face with pastries,” I say, turning my head to look at her. “Maybe I’ll gain weight and not fit in the dress, and we will have to postpone the wedding.”
Landry looks at me for a moment before busting out in laughter. “That’s actually not a horrible idea. Let’s eat!”
We find a café on the street and sit in a little two-seater table outside. The weather is nice, still a little chill left over from winter, but we sit in the sun, so it isn’t too bad.
“I wish we were here for a fun trip,” I say around my scone, the chocolate filling igniting my taste buds, and I moan. “This is delicious. I want eight more.”
“Calm down there, champ,” Landry says. “Your eyes might be bigger than your stomach.”
“Not possible,” I say, wiping my mouth. “So, was that dress as bad as I think it is?”
“Worse,” Landry says, making her eyes wide. “It’s not the right one for you at all. Seth has zero fashion sense. And he’s a dickbag. Have I told you that recently?” She takes a sip of coffee from her dainty cup.
“You don’t have to remind me,” I say with a shudder. “I hate that he’s here.”
“Didn’t you say you didn’t want to talk about him anymore?” She cocks her head to the side.
“Ugh. I don’t know. What else is there to talk about in my life? All I’ve become lately is a bride. And an outcast at school.”
“Yeah, let’s talk about that. What is going on with you and Bodhi?”
“What do you mean?” I shove another pastry in, chewing.
“I don’t understand why he’s being an asshat to you. I mean, I know everything that went down at your birthday was a shock, but he’s taking it to another level. Calling you a whore? That’s not the Bodhi I know.” Landry shakes her head with a grimace.
“I think he’s hurt by what I did. And I can’t blame him. Keeping that secret was shitty of me.”
“Why did you keep it from him for years? That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t,” I say as I pick at my food in front of me. I’m suddenly not hungry anymore. “But it had to be done.”
“I don’t like all the secretive ways you say things. I wish you would let me in.”
“All I know is, this marriage between me and Seth is saving my family.”
“Didn’t you say you were going to try and figure out what hold Seth’s family has over yours?”
“
Yes,” I say and then glance away. “I’m not sure how to do that. My dad is a little terrifying.”
“Your dad scares you?” Landry asks with a frown, leaning forward.
“Yes, he does.” It feels good to admit it, to tell someone the truth for once instead of dancing around what I have to say.
“Fuck, Trixie, does he hurt you or something?”
No, but he threatened to hurt the one I love.
“No. He just isn’t scared to get his hands dirty.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I’ve said enough.”
Landry sits back with a nod, as if she knows not to push me too much. “Well, I’m always here if you want to talk.”
“Thank you,” I say, reaching across the table to squeeze Landry’s hand.
She’s been the best friend to me, and I’m thankful to have her. I don’t have many people anymore.
27
Bodhi
I’m pacing the waiting room. I’m the only one in here. Dad went to grab some coffee, and no one else has arrived. I’m going to be an uncle, and I’m so fucking excited. I stop at the chair where I put my basket; it’s been put together for at least three months now. Since we don’t know what they are having, I got a bunch of different-colored things, mostly rainbow because babies like lots of colorful shit, right? Forget boring yellow or green. Why can’t a girl wear blue? Or a boy wear pink? Or, hear me out, why can’t they wear every single color simultaneously?
Dad said it was chaotic, looking at my gift basket, but what does he know about babies?
What do I know about babies?
My stomach drops, and I start pacing again. What if I accidentally let the kid slip out of my hands? Maybe it will be better for me not to hold him or her.
“Dude, calm down,” Landry says from the waiting room entrance. “You act like it’s your child.”
“I mean, it basically is. Brock and I have the same DNA,” I say.
Landry scrunches up her nose. “Yuck, don’t say that around Brock. He will probably punch you for it.”
Corbin follows Landry in, giving me a fist bump.
“Is this yours?” Landry asks, and I turn to see her pointing at my basket.
“Yep.”
“There’s a lot going on,” she says, moving the stuff around to see what all is inside.
“Don’t touch,” I say, batting her hand away. “I have it all put in there nicely.”
“That’s a lot of color,” she says, raising one eyebrow.
“Babies like color,” I say defensively, and she snorts.
“Babies are, like, half-blind,” she says.
I shake my head. “They can see. You have to hold things close to their face.”
Corbin is standing back with his arms crossed over his chest, watching us go back and forth.
“How do you know that?” Landry asks, and I make a face.
“It’s called research,” I say, and she snorts again.
“Are you reading the mommy blogs?”
“No.” I grab the basket and move it out of her reach.
“Whatever,” she says, laughing, and then sits down. “How long have you been here?”
“An hour or so. Dad is around somewhere,” I say, glancing at the door like he’s going to come through it right now.
“Yeah, we saw him out in the hallway. He’s on the phone.”
“What have you two crazy kids been up to?” I ask as I set the basket back down and sink into the chair next to Landry.
I watch them glance at each other, and Landry blushes before looking back at me.
“Ah, say no more,” I tell them, and we sink into silence.
What would it be like to have a person who was always there for me? Who wants the same things in life that I do?
I hate sitting here, feeling sorry for myself, but I can feel the familiar emotions creep over me. There’s been a lot of that lately, the sad nights and even worse days. At least at night, no one bothers me about it, but it’s inconvenient, having to shield my true feelings when I’m around people during the day. I’m glad school is almost over.
I glance up at Dad as he walks back into the waiting room, pocketing his phone. He’s holding a Styrofoam cup of coffee, and he sits next to me, crossing his ankle over the other knee.
“So, how long does this take?” I ask, one foot bouncing up and down. I’ve never been good at sitting around. I like to be moving.
“There’s no set time, Bodhi. Be still,” Dad says, and I feel like he’s scolding a child.
“Anyone want any snacks?”
“Have any in that basket?” Corbin asks, and I make a sarcastic face at him.
“No, didn’t think to bring the newborn infant some snacks, dipshit.”
“Language,” Dad warns, and I jump to my feet.
Not sure why I’m so nervous all of a sudden. I was fine when I got here, but the whole hurry up and wait thing isn’t for me.
“I’m going to the vending machines,” I say, walking toward the door, not looking back.
I find one on the next hallway, and I survey the junk food in it, finally settling on a candy bar. As soon as I grab it from the machine, I rip open the top of it, taking a bite and turning to head back toward the waiting room.
My heart stops. A familiar blonde head disappears around the corner, and I shake my own to convince myself I’m seeing things. But then I know I’m not. Of course she would come. Peyton is her friend. She would want to be here.
Why didn’t I consider this before now?
I debate on walking around, so I don’t have to sit in the same room as her, breathing the same air and pretending we don’t know each other or that we aren’t covertly trying to look at each other.
But no.
This isn’t my fault; it’s hers. She could have told me about everything. She had years, and she chose to keep it from me, to break things off and pretend like everything was okay. I’m angry with her, and as much as I’m afraid for her, a part of me wants to say something hateful, to make her feel as bad as I do. I’ve been so hot and cold lately, part of me hurting her to push her away and the other part of me getting some sick sort of satisfaction in indulging my own decimated ego.
I realize my feet have started moving, carrying me back around the corner, and before I know it, I’m standing in front of the waiting room door, candy bar in hand. We are in a special wing of the hospital, usually reserved for celebrities and those in power. Money can buy a lot, and it’s only the best for my little niece or nephew. We have our privacy and a comfortable area to spend our time, where we won’t be bothered by anyone else. The downside is, it’s a small room. I’ll be in close proximity to Trixie, and my body isn’t reacting well.
It’s getting excited; it’s remembering things that I don’t want it to remember.
“Angry, angry, angry,” I murmur to myself, trying to remind my brain that I can’t get hard right now, thinking about the way Trixie held my dick in her hand as she rubbed my piercing.
Fuck.
My pants get snug, and I sigh. So much for not thinking about it. Traitorous mind.
Okay, let’s try this again.
I stick my arm straight out, thrusting the door open, and everyone turns wide eyes toward me as the door swings wildly and strikes the wall. The bang echoes through the quiet room, and I smirk. I reach up, taking another bite of my chocolate bar as I saunter back into the waiting room.
It’s unfortunate that Dad is here and about to witness this display, but it must be done.
Why the fuck would she even show up here anyway when she knew I would be here?
Surely, she’s not stupid.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask Trixie.
The color drains from her face, and she fidgets with the gift box in her lap.
“I’m sure it’s obvious that I’m here for Peyton and Brock,” she says quietly.
“Are you now?” I ask, shrugging. “And who invited you?”<
br />
“Landry—”
“Ah, did she now?” I turn and look at Landry, who is glaring at me.
“Bodhi, would you stop?” Dad asks as he stares at me.
“No, I won’t fucking stop,” I say, just getting started. “She shouldn’t be here. She’s not a part of this family.”
“Bodhi.” Corbin’s sharp tone rings out, and I raise my eyebrows at him. He probably wants me to stop, so he doesn’t have to hear it from Landry later.
“All of you prance around like she didn’t diss me in the most public way possible, and now, you welcome her with open arms anytime she’s around without one thought to my feelings.”
“You have been mean enough to her,” Landry says, and I smirk again.
“Have I? I think I could be meaner. I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t deserve it.” I focus on Trixie then.
Her eyes are watering, and the angry part of me is satisfied, but my human side—the one in love with her—is appalled at my callousness. She needs to leave though. Not only so I don’t have to sit in her presence, but also for her own safety.
“Does your fiancé know where you are?” I raise one quizzical eyebrow at her, and she bites her bottom lip. God, how I want to be the one with my teeth wrapped around it.
“No,” she says.
Dad stands. “Bodhi, what is the meaning of all of this? She’s Peyton’s friend.”
“And I’m your son, Dad. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
I don’t know why, but I desperately want him to pick a side. Dad doesn’t answer, torn between what’s right and his own child. I’m being a brute, and I can’t help myself.
“You don’t fucking belong here, Beatrice,” I say, striding to the door of the waiting room and then turning to look at her.
She stands slowly and leans over to hand the present to Dad.
“Go on, little girl. Run back to your fiancé. Don’t tell him you were here though. You don’t want to get in trouble.” I sneer as I push the call button beside the exit.
