Last Girl

by K. S. Thomas

  “Hi. You must be Trix. I’m Blake. Well, Dr. Patterson.”

  I get to my feet instantly. And then I feel like a dumbass, heat rushing to my cheeks and everything.

  “Nice to meet you.” I really hope I sound more competent than I feel. My handshake is leaving much to be desired for since my entire body is turning to mush and getting wobbly from the ankles up.

  His gaze moves away from mine toward Nat and I get the feeling she’s filling him on the things Pam forgot to mention. I could face her to follow the conversation, but that would mean taking my eyes off of Blake – Dr. Patterson – and I’m not interested in doing that just yet.

  Penn

  After our run, Tony and I head for the garage where I keep my weights. Not even thinking, I watch while he places his iPod into the speaker dock and hits play. Next, we’re both covering our ears, cringing from being blasted with old-ass Nickelback tunes at full volume.

  “What the hell?” Tony yells, his ears still covered with both hands while I scramble to turn down the music. “Trix use this thing last?”

  I don’t know whether to laugh or call him a fucking moron. So, rather than choose, I go with both.

  “You’re an idiot. Trix doesn’t turn up the volume so she can listen to music. She does it to try and blast out my eardrums when I least expect it.” Not that she doesn’t enjoy the vibration of sound. But she doesn’t come into the garage to feel it. No. This was purely for the pleasure of knowing I’d have a ringing in my ear for days to come all because I didn’t think to check the volume before I hit play. Or let someone else hit play. She’s sick that way.

  But then I frequently turn on porn at high volume in my room with the door closed and the window open when I know she’s going to be the only one home. She has no idea the action our neighbors think she’s been getting all these years, or the foul things they think she says while doing so. Because I’m kinda sick that way myself.

  “I swear, you two have the weirdest fucking relationship out of anyone I know.” Tony shakes his head and goes to pick up a set of dumbbells to work on bicep curls.

  “I guess.” I grab a pair as well and start doing my own set. “But it works.”

  “Does it?” His brow is arched almost as high as his tone is when he asks.

  “Obviously. We’ve been fighting consistently for over twenty years now.” I smirk. I spent years trying to get rid of her, pissed off about the fact that Bo’s sister was always tagging along everywhere I went because he was always responsible for her. Now I can’t even conjure up a single memory I wish she hadn’t been a part of. Intentional or not, she’s been the most dependable aspect of my entire life. No matter what happens, Trix is always there.

  “Yeah. That sounds healthy.” Tony grins. “Tell me, Penn. What are you going to do when she finds someone new to fight with?”

  “What do you mean?” I’m pretty sure I know what he means.

  “I mean, how long do you think this is going to work? Playing house. Filling in for her brother...without all the brotherly feelings. You have to know a girl like Trix isn’t going to stay single forever.”

  I push the air out through clenched teeth. I’m going to let him think I’m struggling with my weights and not this conversation. “You don’t know Trix. The last thing she wants is a relationship. She’s married to her job. We both are. That’s why this works. Neither of us is looking for more.” I purposely avoid addressing the rest of his implications. I can tell him I’m not into Trix until I’m blue in the face. He’s still not going to fucking believe me. And why the hell would he? No guy in his right mind would be able to sleep down the hall from her and not want to do more than sleep down the hall from her. But then, that’s the part nobody knows. They all assume, of course, but nobody knows for sure. And she sure as hell isn’t about to cop to it. So, neither do I. Still doesn’t mean I’m prepared to build more out of this relationship though.

  “Speaking of work. Where’s her new job at? You get her in at County like you were planning?”

  I grimace. I argued with Trix for three weeks straight before she left, trying to convince her to take that job. It would be so easy. The paramedics we work with are in and out of that hospital all the time and I know plenty of the staff. I could check in on her without her ever even knowing it. Of course, that’s exactly why the hell she said no.

  “Nope. Wouldn’t go for it. Decided to go private practice instead. Some plastic surgeon who fixes babies. I don’t fucking know who he is, but I’m going to find out later when I go see her for lunch.”

  Tony flashes me a condescending smile. “Aw, are you just the best fake husband, ever? Surprising your girl for lunch on her first day at the new job.”

  I set my weights down and whip the back of his head with my towel. “You’re a fucking dick, you know that? I just want to make sure she’s alright. It’s what Bo would do. Remember? That’s who I’m filling in for.” It’s almost true. It used to be true. Fuck it. It’s been a lie from day one. But she doesn’t know that. And that’s all that matters.

  Chapter Six

  Trix

  So far, the morning has been filled with consultations and no surgeries which has left me a lot of time to myself, getting acquainted with the office and watching the routines so I can hopefully start to follow along soon without missing a beat or requiring a great deal of communication outside of what I can scribble on the handy dandy notepad sized dry erase board I carry with me everywhere. It’s extra convenient having Nat here, but the last thing I want is for her to feel obligated to be my full time translator. I don’t need one anyway.

  My parents insisted from day one I would be mainstreamed in every way, school, friends, sports. I had tons of extra help on the side with speech therapists and tutors making sure I was able to keep up with my grade level at all times, but that was at home. To the outside world, I was always expected to be capable of all the same things Bo was. And Bo made sure that I was. Even long after I no longer needed him to.

  And then Penn took over. Regardless of how many times I’ve told him, no, proved to him, that I can take care of myself, he still insists on treating me like I’m the same little girl who got teased on the playground when I was five.

  The light flickers and I look up from my reading to see Nat standing in the doorway, her finger on the switch.

  “There’s someone here to see you.”

  I sigh. That guy never misses a beat.

  I nod graciously, letting her know I understood, and get up to follow her out.

  Meanwhile, Penn is already busy sweet-talking Melissa.

  I whistle to get his attention. “Give it up, dude. She’s hot for someone else.”

  He shrugs. “That’s cool, so am I.” Then he winks, suggesting that someone could possibly be me. He would never make a move like that if he thought there was a chance in hell I’d ever fall for it.

  I shake my head, trying not to let him see my mouth hitch up involuntarily. Sometimes I hate how easily he makes me smile. “What are you even doing here?”

  “Taking you to lunch to celebrate your new job. It’s tradition. How many times do we have to go over that?”

  I turn to Nat, but she’s been following along with our conversation all along, so she just waves me toward the door. Apparently, I’m taking my lunch break right now.

  “Taco Shack?”

  “Tradition, Trix. That means we do the same thing every time. So yeah, Taco Shack.”

  That’s not really why we always go there. I mean, it’s part of it. But the main reason we’ve been going to see Lupe for nearly every meal we’ve eaten since we were twelve, is because she took the time to learn to sign when she realized we were going to be regular customers. Over the years, most of her staff has even picked up enough to communicate the basics. It’s nice. Comfortable. And it’s made me lazy in some ways and grateful in others. But it does make it that much more inconvenient when I insist on doing things that are so far out of my comfort zone, like startin
g new jobs and traveling to foreign countries. There’s no denying it helps offset the ways I’ve become so set in my ways at home, reminding me to keep working hard and to appreciate the times I don’t have to.

  “Are you going to start telling me about the new job, or am I going to have to pelt tortilla chips at you to break you down?” His hand goes to hover above the basket of chips, letting me know he’ll make good on his threat. Knowing him, he’ll remember to scoop up some big chunks of salsa before he throws it at me, so, I start sharing.

  “I like it. I don’t know if you saw or not, but one of the nurses knows ASL.” I reach for a chip and pop it into my mouth. “So, you know, you can stop freaking out. I’m fine. I have my own personal translator and everything.”

  His eyes narrow. “Are you just saying that to get me to back off?”

  “No dude, I’m for real. If I was that crafty, I would have made up a signing co-worker a long time ago. This is legit. She signs. And she’s cool. And the doctor is fucking hot.”

  I watch as his nostrils flare. He tries to hide it by focusing on the menu, but I know he has the damn thing memorized and he’s just putting off having to continue this conversation with me, while also making sure I won’t say anything else since he’s not technically looking at me anymore. Not that I couldn’t vocalize my thoughts, but we both know I only tend to go that route in times when it’s absolutely necessary and this is not one of those times. I can wait.

  Finally he slams the menu shut and drops it and both his hands, flat on the table. Then, his hands fly up again, moving at top speed. “I’m sorry. Did you say the doctor is hot? As in, you have a thing for your new boss?”

  I nod. Biting down on my straw and grinning. “Is that a problem for you?”

  “Kind of. Considering I was inside of you less than ten hours ago.” Much to my horror, I realize his mouth was moving the whole time. He just said that out loud. For the hearing world to understand.

  Mortified, my palm smothers his open mouth. Too pissed to form words, I just stare imaginary daggers at him, wishing for the first time in a long time, they were real.

  “Move your hand, Trix.” His condescending glare as he signs while my hand is still locked over his lips is all the motivation I need to let go and fire some choice words in his direction.

  “You’re an asshole, you know that? It’s bad enough you have the nerve to throw last night back in my face, but like that? What if Lupe heard you?”

  He raises his brow, not convinced I’ve made my point. “Lupe can sign. She knows what we’re talking about either way.”

  I press my lips together tightly. “Only if she can see us.” And she’s not within my line of vision right now, so I doubt I’m in hers. Doesn’t really mean we’re out of earshot though.

  Penn rakes a hand through his hair, briefly closing his eyes while he does it. A typical Penn move. He’s avoiding. Trying to push down something that’s working its way up and threatening to come out. But he wins.

  “Whatever. I’m sorry I said anything. Out loud or otherwise. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that about your new boss. Or anyone. I mean, really, Trix. When is the last time you thought anyone was fucking hot?”

  Good God, if he knew the times I thought the words, he’s fucking hot, Penn would have an ego the size of Jupiter, because I’m usually looking at him when I think it.

  “I’m pretty sure I used those exact words when we watched that Scott Eastwood movie right before I left for Africa.” Close enough.

  He smirks. “My point exactly. You have fictional standards of attractiveness. You never think a real guy is good looking.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “No, you don’t. If you did you’d have no valid reason for being single. And you are. Because you insist on only being into men who are unattainable.”

  Well, there is that.

  “When did lunch turn into an opening for you to psycho-analyze me?”

  He moves his silverware and leans back, letting me know that Lupe is approaching with our lunch behind me. “Oh, I’m not psycho-analyzing you right now. This is shit I figured out ages ago.” He winks. Again. Only this time it’s not nearly as endearing or charming. “Now eat your traditional burrito so I can take you back to work where you can ogle your new boss from a safe and unapproachable distance, just the way you like it.”

  “You’re a jackass.”

  “Ditto.”

  Penn

  I blame Tony for this. If he hadn’t gone on and on about his warped ideas regarding my relationship with Trix, I wouldn’t be so fucking pissed right now. And I am. Pissed. And I don’t even have a good reason for it. Other than this stupid sense that she was mine first. But I don’t fucking own her. Not a single fucking part of her is mine. And now seems like an excellent time to be reminded of that.

  “You can just drop me off out front.” She hurries up and unbuckles as if that will make me suddenly forget about parking and walking her back inside.

  I nod, and proceed to circle the lot until I find an empty spot.

  When I park and turn toward her, the exasperation is evident on her pretty face.

  “You really think I’m not coming inside with you? After you told me about your hot doctor boss? You’re crazy.”

  She snorts loudly and opens her door in a huff. Somehow pissing her off feels like a healthy move at the moment. The more she hates me, the less likely she’ll be to do anything nice for a while.

  I purposely stay behind her while she hurries across the parking lot toward the building. We both know she’s not going in without me, and staying out of sight until we do, means not having to endure any insults from her in the meantime. Plus, I like the view.

  When she reaches the doors, she stops, waiting for me to catch up.

  “You’re really going to force your way in just so you can check out my boss?” She rolls her eyes for extra emphasis.

  “Yeah. I really am. Now move it. I’ve got other shit to do today. The universe doesn’t revolve around you, you know?”

  She glares at me but doesn’t respond.

  “Good afternoon,” the girl behind the counter begins her automatic greeting, then realizes it’s us and clamps her jaw shut, cutting herself off. When she speaks again it’s only to mutter, “Never mind. You can’t hear me anyway.”

  Automatically, my eyes travel toward Trix to see if she caught any of that, but she’s too busy acting like I don’t exist to notice much of anything.

  I’ve got like three more steps tops before we reach the ‘staff only’ door and she can escape me for good. Or, at least until her shift ends. I know she knows it because she’s speeding up the closer she gets.

  Her one hand is already on the handle when she turns to gesture her goodbye. Then, it happens. The gods smile down upon me and have a good laugh at her expense.

  “Melissa, is Trix back yet? I need her to get with Nat about a procedure this afternoon.”

  Dammit. He really is handsome. And I don’t think that about just any man. I prefer not to think it about any at all.

  “She’s here. Sorry, our lunch ran a bit late. It was my fault.” I walk toward him, hand stretched out like I’m someone important he should want to know.

  “Oh, no worries.” He takes my hand and shakes it. A solid grip too. “And you are?”

  “Penn. Penn Cavanaugh.” I’m tempted to lie. Tempted to tell him I’m someone I’m not. I could get away with it. She’s standing right next to me, but at an angle where she’d never be able to make out the words on my lips. And I’m not signing. Because I don’t want her to know what we’re saying. Mostly just to drive her crazy. And it will. Until tonight when she comes to pound down my door, demanding to know what her hot doctor boss and I talked about.

  “I know you.” He lets go of my hand and starts pointing his finger straight at me. “You’re the firefighter who pulled that woman from her car as it was going up in flames last month.”

  It was on the news. I remember. My
Instagram account saw a ton of action after that aired. It’s how I met Faith.

  “Yeah. That’s me.” It’s funny how some stories are worth telling more than others. The woman had been a former beauty queen and suffered some burns in the accident. They weren’t life threatening by a long shot, but if her career hadn’t been over before, it would have been after. And somehow that made it newsworthy.

  “You know, I saved her face after that accident.” He’s fucking bragging. Like I’m supposed to be impressed now. Sure, saving her face. That shit’s important. Saving her life? Eh.

  “That’s great. I’m glad to hear that.” I nod awkwardly. Then I notice Trix, her arms folded across her chest. Her version of giving me the silent treatment. “Well, I should take off and let you all get back to work.” I lean in to kiss her cheek and she lets me, only because she doesn’t see it coming.

  “Nice meeting you, Penn.” The good doctor shakes my hand again.

  “Yeah, you, too.” Then I walk out, a sinking feeling in my gut.

  I could lose her to this guy.

  Only, he’s such a fucking douche, there’s no way in hell, I’m losing her to this guy.

  Frustrated and with no desire to head home and stew in my own pissy mood, I drive over to Tony’s. He’s not even surprised when he opens the door and sees me there. Apparently I’ve been doing this a lot, showing up here unannounced.

  “Somehow I thought these visits would stop when Trix got back. Now I’m starting to wonder if I need to have a key made for you.” He leads the way out into the garage where he’s busy working on his latest project, a custom chopper with a superhero vibe. It’d be tacky if it wasn’t so gritty and dark. Tony really has a talent for this stuff. He could open a custom shop tomorrow if he wanted. He certainly makes more money doing this than he’ll ever make doing what we do, but then, neither of us got into this for the money. We both have our reasons. His is more obvious than mine. He’s a sixth generation firefighter. There was never a question of what he would grow up to do. It’s in his blood. It’s what he lives and breathes for. Bikes, they’re just for fun. A lot of cash. But fun.