by KK Bauer
The boys shrug and walk to my car, leaving footprints and wheel tracks from their luggage in their wake. I pop the back hatch and they throw their crap in, just barely fitting. We each hop in, the car rocking a little. I hardly notice him beside me in the passenger seat until I hear MJ’s giggling from behind me. I look in my rear view mirror and see Josh nibbling at her neck.
I crunch my nose together and stick my tongue out in repulsion. Hotness chuckles beside me. “Try living with it,” he says, leaning in just a little as he says it. I smile at him and concentrate back on the road. “So everybody calls you AJ?”
“Yeah. Except my dad.”
“Does he call you by your real name?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the p. “He calls me Sweet Pea. The only people that call me Aubrey are my professors, and that’s until someone in class corrects them.”
“Me, too. Nobody calls me Kellan. Well, my granddad does, I guess, when he isn’t calling me Dipshit or Hey You,” he says with laughter in his voice. The way he said granddadis endearing, it makes me wish I called my grandpa something else. Grandpa is so… unoriginal and boring. For a moment I wonder if I can covertly change what I’ve called him my whole life and if anyone would notice.
“Do you like being called Kel?”
He shrugs minutely, something I shouldn’t have seen since I should be focused wholly on the road and not him. “I dunno. I guess. Do you like being called AJ?”
I think for a second, then truthfully say, “No, not really.”
That kind of catches him off guard. “Why?”
Because it reminds me of MJ and what our relationship used to be. “Not sure,” I lie.
“Huh… okay, I’ll call you Aubrey if you want.”
I smile, still facing frontward, refusing to look at him again for the rest of the drive. “Okay. So does that mean I have to call you Kellan? It’s only fair, right?”
He laughs. “You have the slight disadvantage, though.” When I furrow my eyebrows together in confusion, he clarifies. “Kellan is one syllable more than Kel. AJ and Aubrey are the same.”
I shake my head, the smile not leaving my face. That was such a nerd thing to say. I sneak a peek at him and his cheeks are a little red from embarrassment. It’s obvious he wishes he could take back that statement.
When we make it to the St. Louis airport two hours later, I round one of the terminals until I spot the long term parking lot. The three of them argue over who will pay for it: Josh saying we should split it four ways, Kellan saying I should be exempt from paying because it is my car, and MJ saying I should pay it all because it is my car. I stay silent and wait until they reach a decision.
“Let’s just figure it out later. We don’t have to pay until we leave,” Josh finally says.
Once we hoist our luggage out of the back, Kellan grabs the handle to mine and says, “Let me get that.”
I watch as he pushes the button and lifts the handle and drags it in his left hand, with his in his right and a carry-on bag on his shoulder. He walks off before I can even contest. I slip my purple carry-on over my shoulder and walk behind him. He is tall, at least a half foot taller than I am. I glance down at the prints he leaves in the snow. I try to mimic his strides but fall short. And of course, I slip and my ass formally meets the wet concrete. I was hoping I’d be able to be accident free during this trip but not even on the plane and I’ve busted my ass.
The three of them laugh at me, and Josh offers his hand to help me up. MJ won’t stop laughing, and it’s more of the laughing at me than the laughing with me kind.
After check-in and security we sit near the gate and wait. We are the lucky people who get first class every time we fly. I have always wondered what it is like to sit coach, and if I ever book a flight on my own I might just try it. Kellan sits beside me, our bags respectively on each side of us. MJ and Josh plop down on the chairs in front of us, unaware how their PDA is disrupting the other people around us. We chat about college football and when I tell him just how bummed I am to miss some of the bowl games, he twitches in astonishment.
“Didn’t take you for a sports fan,” he says, though he doesn’t know me at all. When I inform him of this, he laughs and says, “Touché.”
Our conversation flows freely from one subject to another, without a single moment of awkward silence. That is until I hear the most annoying voice on the planet.
“Hey, loves! Oh, and you,” she snarls in my direction. My middle finger spasms, desperately eager to be released. I can never retaliate, though. I’m just too afraid.
Cara. Fucking Cara.
2
Kellan
I told myself before I left that I was not going to hook up with Cara or AJ during the trip. I knew it would lead to complications, like always, when all I want to do is let out some stress and the girl wants more. I want to have fun, not tiptoe around a girl sharing the same villa for a fucking week.
Now my little rule didn’t apply to random girls there. I made sure of that.
When I saw Aubrey for the first time, I had a tinge of regret, wishing I didn’t make the rule. She wasn’t hot like the other girls I usually hook up with. Her wavy hair is a natural golden brown and really shiny. She has the same face as MJ but her features are sweeter, softer. And her eyes are a blue-green color, instead of the icy blue that MJ has.She has freckles that dot her nose and cheeks. She isn’t just hot, she is pretty. Beautiful, even. This is not the same girl MJ told me about. Based on MJ’s description, I was expecting a short, chubby girl wearing a Hello Kitty t-shirt and only talked about books and learning.
But as we sit together in the car and in the airport, I realize that MJ is a fucking liar. Aubrey is pretty awesome. She isn’t ‘one night stand’ material, though, which is all I really do. I really don’t befriend girls, but I could see us hanging out and having a good time. Ugh, I sound like a pussy.
I hear Cara before I see her. When she makes a rude remark to Aubrey, I have the sudden urge to snap at her. I don’t, though. I look her up and down instead. She is dressed similar to MJ, like she is going to a club instead of sitting on a plane for a few hours. Even though it is barely above freezing outside, she is in a mini skirt. Her top is purposely low-cut; her entire outfit is just asking some pervert to eye fuck her.
She picks up my bag that’s in the chair beside me and throws it on the floor then occupies the hard plastic seat. Her fingers trail from my shoulder down my arm.
“Kel, I missed you!” she coos. Once her hand gets to my forearm she grabs hold and pulls a little, causing my body to turn from Aubrey toward her.
“Hmm, I doubt that,” I mumble, because it’s not a secret that this chick gets around. I am frankly a little surprised I haven’t screwed her yet. I feel like the only one who hasn’t. We made out one night at a party, but her phone trilled and she had the fucking audacity to text another guy while I was sucking on her neck.
But even though she is probably one condom away from surpassing Wilt Chamberlain, I can’t deny that she is hot. Her dark brown hair is straight and cut just past her shoulders, and she could pass for a Victoria’s Secret model body double. I heard from someone that her tits are fake and she’s had work done on her nose and lips. I don’t judge, as long as she hasn’t gone through a sex change surgery, it’s all good in my book.
I curse and remind myself of my rule. I have two gorgeous girls on each side of me, and I can’t touch either one. I am a masochist if I thought this rule was going to help me.
I sit there as Cara openly flirts with me for a few moments, barely saying a word. Finally I turn to resume my conversation with Aubrey, but she is gone. I look around for her. Her bag is even missing. She comes back a few minutes later and doesn’t sit next to me but two seats down from Josh. Ouch. She won’t look at me. Instead she plays some game on her phone.
I figure it has something to do with Cara, but I try to distance myself from girl drama so I have no idea what is between the two of them. I’m sure, with
such close quarters, I will find out this week.
When we board the plane I thank the airplane gods that my seat is next to Aubrey’s. Josh and MJ are across the aisle, and Cara pouts as she sits behind MJ. I see Cara lean forward and whisper something to MJ who looks over at me and smiles.
“Hey, AJ. Switch places with Cara. Please?” She looks over to Aubrey with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.
I pivot my head and look at Aubrey. A bunch of emotions are blaring through her eyes: disappointment, dejection, and irritation only a few. I could tell she didn’t want to move, but instead of standing up for herself, she sighs and nods then reaches to unbuckle her seatbelt.
Before I know what I’m doing, I grasp her hand before it unclicks the belt. “No, you don’t have to,” I whisper to her. Then I turn to MJ and say, “No, she doesn’t have to move. She’s not moving.”
MJ flinches at my directness while Cara seethes. That is until a swanky guy in a dark grey suit maneuvers his way into the seat next to her. She immediately forgets me and begins chatting him up. I overhear part of their conversation. He has a layover in Chicago as well, but from there he is going to Seattle on business. I quickly grow bored and turn to Aubrey.
“So, what’s your major?” I ask.
She looks over at me from the side, eyeing me from behind her eyelashes, and smirks. “Don’t laugh.” When I hold up my hands in submission, she says, “Meteorology. I want to be a weather girl.” She ducks her head and covers her face in her hands. I laugh anyway, not because of what she said, but how she reacted. When she uncovers her face and frowns at me, I explain.
“I’m not laughing at your major, I’m laughing because of your reaction. If you are so embarrassed by it, why do it?”
“Because… I love the weather. I don’t know. Ever since I watched the movie Twister, I have been fascinated with the technology and the unpredictability and the terminology.”
I stare at her, trying my damndest not to laugh again. I fail. “Twister? Really?”
“UGH I am not telling you anything again!” She pouts, making me laugh more. “What about you? What’s your major?”
Once I settle down, I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest in a smug posture. “Definitely something I’m not embarrassed to talk about… Architecture.”
“Really? My dad is an architect. He owns a firm in St. Louis.”
We continue on about her family and being from St. Louis then she asks about my family and I tell her what it was like growing up in a small town in Texas. There is a time we are laughing so hard the old hag in front of us turns around and gives us a dirty look.
Tears are streaming down Aubrey’s face and her face is a little splotchy. As our bouts of laughter subside, we both let out a huge sigh at the same time. “Wow,” she lets out in a rush of air, “my abs hurt. Next time I’ll just get on a plane with you instead of doing crunches. Best workout ever!”
We land in Chicago and sit around for an hour eating McDonald’s until we board again. This time, since business boy isn’t on our flight, Cara demands to sit next to me. I find myself constantly looking over at Aubrey throughout the flight, just to make sure she is okay. This flight she is across from me, while MJ and Josh are in front. She is engrossed in a book, not even realizing that the creeper next to her is peering down her top. I clear my throat and when he looks up at me, I narrow my eyes at him. He immediately pivots and spends the rest of the flight staring out the window.
I find Cara very dull and shallow once I compare our conversation with mine and Aubrey’s. I’m not sure what that means, necessarily. There isn’t room for conversation when you’re in bed, so who cares?
There is a lull in our conversation so immediately I snatch up my headphones and close her off. I close my eyes and listen to the music the whole time. I can feel Cara nudge me, but I pretend I’m asleep. I’m not in the mood to talk anymore. I actually do end up falling asleep and when Cara nudges me again, I awake to see that we are about to land and she points to the stewardess beside me who asks me to “power down my electronic device.”
We touch down at the Cancun National Airport in the evening. I stand in the aisle and stretch until my taut muscles loosen. Aubrey is rolling her neck in circles with her eyes closed, getting more attention from the jackass beside her.
Cara rises to stand beside me and stretches as well, more for the benefit of giving all the men on the plane a show than the real purpose of stretching. I bite my tongue before the word ‘tramp’ escapes my mouth. We exit the plane and walk through the terminal. It smells faintly like bleach and clean air at the same time. We go through customs and baggage claim before finding the transportation company we set up with. It feels like hundreds of locals are standing around waiting for someone without transportation to come along. I dodge a few of them, ignoring their demanding questions and craving a cerveza. A man in a lime green polo escorts us to a white van, loads our luggage into the back, and whisks us away to our villa. The air is humid and still warm as we step out of the van. I glance over at Aubrey; she is standing there with her eyes closed and smiling, breathing in heavily.
We check in at the main office then walk past two villas before reaching ours. MJ and Josh walk in first, followed by Cara. I motion for Aubrey to go in front of me before entering. MJ flips on all the lights and squeals. I really wish she would fucking stop doing that.
Everything is a shade of white. The walls, the tile floor, the cabinets in the kitchen, even the fucking couches. The large living room is front and center with the stairs on the left and a door which I assume is the master bedroom. To the right is the kitchen and a small dining area. It is all open and bright. It’s slightly annoying.
Cara squeals too, fucking annoying, and drops her bags in the middle of the room to run upstairs. I remember MJ saying there were only three bedrooms. The plan was for me to have my own room upstairs while MJ and Josh shared the master and Cara and Tricia shared the other bedroom upstairs. I doubt that will be the same arrangement with Aubrey.
I watch as she silently looks around, opens a skinny door to pull out a blanket, and flips it so it covers the cushions on the couch. She sits and unzips the bag at her feet and pulls out a small pillow that she sets at one end of the couch.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
She jumps a little, not realizing that I am still there. Everyone else has run off to their respective bedrooms. “Getting settled.”
“On the couch? There is a bedroom upstairs.”
She shook her head. “One is yours and the other is Cara’s. I… oh.” Her shoulders slump a little and she drops her head.
“What?”
“I guess I didn’t realize that you and Cara were going to share a room.”
I scoff. “We aren’t.”
“Well, I sure as hell am not going to share one with her,” she says bitterly then realizes her tone and bites down on her lips. She seems embarrassed that she had her little snarky comment. I think it’s funny. “MJ told me that since the bedrooms are taken, I have to sleep on the couch. I don’t mind.”
“Yes you do. Or you should. You can’t keep letting them walk all over you. They won’t stop.”
Her eyes widen slightly and her eyebrows rise, showing her disbelief. “That’s not what is going on.”
“Whatever. If you keep lying, you are going to start believing yourself. Tell her no for once. There is no way you can be that nice to her when she is such a fucking bitch to you.”
I struck a nerve. Her nostrils flare and her eyes that express so much show rage. “You don’t know me or my relationship with my cousin. So quit meddling and acting like you give a shit.”
“Fine. Stay down here and sleep on the couch for all I care, since I clearly don’t give a shit.” I storm up the steps and walk into the bedroom that Cara isn’t in. I throw my bags on the floor and fall onto the full sized bed. I can hear Cara in the only bathroom that is upstairs and the sudden urge to pee hits me. Hard.
> I go back downstairs, expecting Aubrey to snap at me again. When I reach the landing halfway down the steps, I hear MJ.
“Seriously, AJ. Kel is just being nice to you because he doesn’t want you to cry all week. He doesn’t like girls like you. He falls for attractive, funny girls. Not losers. So quit taking up his time and let Cara have a chance at him. They make the cuter couple.”
What. A. Bitch. I take a step, ready to tell MJ how it really is, when I hear her again. “We are going grocery shopping in the morning, so whatever you want, you’d better write it down or we won’t get it for you.” Then a door slams and it’s quiet. I descend the rest of the stairs to see Aubrey sitting on the couch with her knees up, face tucked into her knees and arms and curled up like a ball.
The pee urgency subsides and I don’t have to go at all anymore, surprise surprise. I touch her shoulder lightly and she flinches and jerks her head up to look at me. Her cheeks are damp from tears and she bravely holds back a sob as she wipes her skin dry with her sleeve. I open my mouth to say something, but I honestly have no fucking idea what to say to a crying girl.
She saves me from embarrassing myself by standing up without a word and going to the half bath next to the kitchen, leaving me standing there with my mouth open and my arm still raised. I am still standing there when she comes out a minute later. She doesn’t look at me as she grabs a toiletry bag out of her suitcase and disappears back into the bathroom.
I am in bed a half hour later after plugging my phone into the charger. The plane rides took a toll on my body as I drift off. I wake to the sound of my door opening. My back is to the door so I can’t see who is there. I wish it was Aubrey changing her mind about the couch, but I know better. I stay perfectly still and wait. A poke on my shoulder blade. A psst. Seconds of silence. Another psst.
“Kel, wake up!” Cara whispers. She pokes me a few more times, but I feign sleep just so I don’t have to talk to her. This is the second time I’ve done that, it can’t be a coincidence. Only this time I’m doing it so I don’t have to do other things to her, besides talking. Maybe she will believe that I am a really heavy sleeper, but I’m the exact opposite.
