by Magan Vernon
She stopped and turned toward me. Her nose was slightly running and her eyes watering but she looked...real... “Do you even hear what you’re saying? You’re doing this because it’s what is expected of you, not what you really want.” She pushed her hand on my chest, shoving me gently. “You got your tattoos without thinking about what your dad would think. You don’t have to do what everyone expects of you or put up a front. Just be you, Tripp.”
I looked up at the sky. You could barely see the stars in the city because they were always covered by buildings or smog. Tonight wasn’t any different. I found myself just staring into the endless black sky. “Sometimes I don’t even know who I am.”
Her cold hand was on my cheek, forcing met to look down at her. “Then find who you are. Not what your dad or brothers want you to be. Do what you have to do to be you.”
I wanted to say something back. Anything. But I didn’t have the words. I really just wanted to kiss her. To tell her that she was fucking smart and amazing and beautiful and she made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years. But I didn’t say anything I just stood there staring at her like a fucking loser.
She smiled and removed her hand from my cheek. “It’s getting cold and late. We should get back. Trigg may wake up and start to wonder where we are.”
I nodded, swallowing hard to get some moisture in my mouth so I could muster up something to say. “Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”
She turned and walked slightly ahead of me. There was no putting my arm around her to shield her from the cold.
We didn’t say anything. Not a damn thing. We just walked in silence.
She stopped in front of the couch she usually slept on, where Trigg was now snoring. “He took the good one,” she muttered.
“You know, if you don’t want to have to deal with folding yourself on the couch, you could sleep in my bed.”
She stared at me, raising an eyebrow.
I waved my hands and lowered my voice. “No, not like that. Just. If you want some more space, it’s a King so there’s plenty of room for both of us.”
“Oh. Okay.” She bit her bottom lip.
I stepped closer so that we were toe-to-toe. She hadn’t even taken her coat or shoes off, just stood there as if she was waiting for this moment. “It’s up to you. Either way, I’m climbing back into bed.”
I turned away and walked the few steps to my bed, tossing my hoodie and shoes on the floor, but kept on my jeans. I crawled under the covers and closed my eyes, even though I was pretty sure sleep wouldn’t come quickly.
It wasn’t even a full minute that I felt the other side of my bed push down and the covers lifted. I didn’t need to turn to see that Sam had found her way in bed.
She wasn’t touching me at all but I could still feel her presence. Her heat. Everything about her.
“Goodnight, Tripp,” she whispered.
“Goodnight, Sam.”
Chapter 11
The smell of bacon was the first thing I woke up to. Not the burned, smoke alarm inducing shit that some girls would try and make after spending the night with me. But real, greasy bacon.
I sat up slowly and saw that the other side of my bed was empty and made. Sam had never cooked in the apartment but maybe she was trying to make a good impression on my brother.
I rolled out of bed and sauntered over to the kitchen. When my eyes finally adjusted I realized that it was Trigg standing at the stove instead of the redhead.
“What the fuck, since when do you cook?” I looked over his shoulder, seeing the sizzling pork along with another pan of eggs.
Trigg pushed around the bacon with a spatula that I didn’t even know I had. “I used to always cook on Saturday mornings for Roni and Bella. Roni was into this all natural shit so we usually always had egg whites and turkey bacon before she went to yoga. I think the real stuff cooks better so I’d always make me and Bella some of it after she left.”
I ran my hand down my face. It was too early for me to even try to analyze my brother. “I guess you’re going to earn your keep.”
I stepped back and pulled one of Sam’s cups down from the shelf, along with one of the single cups for coffee before I put it in the machine.
“If you’re looking for Sam, she left early this morning. Said she had some stuff to do, but she had an alert set for your interview.”
My breath caught in my throat and I didn’t want Trigg to see it, so I kept my back to him and nodded. “That’s cool. I wasn’t looking for her, though.”
“Really? Is that why you two were sneaking out in the middle of the night and slept in the same bed?”
I turned around, almost too stunned to speak. The guy was fucking snoring when I left. How did he see us?
Trigg smiled, not looking up from the pans. “You two aren’t very subtle, but I would advise you not to mix business and pleasure. You’re either with this chick, she’s your assistant, or you're friends. Pick your poison.”
He turned off the burners and grabbed two plates, scooping the food onto them before he handed me one.
“It’s not like that. We are just friends and she doesn’t technically work for me. She’s just helping me out since I’m letting her stay here,” I said, trying to convince myself more than anything.
Trigg sat down at the stool in front of the counter. I hated the stools. They were something Mom picked out that were supposed to be edgy but really just felt like cold metal spikes on my ass. “Well, if she’s just a friend, are you inviting her to Thanksgiving or is she just going to sit here with her cat all day while we have another picturesque dinner.”
I smirked and shoved a piece of bacon in my mouth. Surprisingly it was amazing. Not too crisp. Not too flimsy. The guy could actually cook. “Do you really think a girl that looks and acts like her is going to want to hang out with our family?”
He smiled. “You mean the female version of you?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I should be offended by that.”
Trigg shook his head. “It’s not a bad thing. I’m just saying that it seems like you two have a good thing going so I was just asking what was what.”
“It’s something all right. Something different.”
I didn’t know how else to describe our relationship or whatever the hell it was. Did I like the girl? Yeah, she was pretty cool. Did I want to see those curves and what other ink she had under those little tank tops? Fuck yeah. But was I going to try and move it farther?
No.
I wasn’t going to fuck up whatever this was like I did with everything else in my life.
“At least you’ve got something going for you. It’s better than I expected you to be doing. I didn’t know what I’d get walking in here, but I was actually happy to see a girl and her cat.”
I shook my head. “Then why come here? You could have gone to Trey’s or Mom and Dad’s or, fuck, told Roni to get out for awhile.”
He put his fork down and looked up at me. His face was still. “Because I figured that you and I could both use some help and maybe I needed something different. Not to see the happy pregnant couple or deal with the wrath of Mom and Dad. You may have always been the black sheep, but that’s what I like about you. You don’t fucking care and you live your life how you want to. I figured I could help you on the job hunt or whatever you wanted to do with that and you could get me away from everything normal.”
I shook my head and couldn’t help the smile spreading across my face. “That’s insulting and funny at the same time. But I guess it couldn’t hurt to have you around for a little while, even if it is cramped in here.”
“Won’t be that cramped if Sam keeps sleeping in your bed” He stabbed his eggs with his fork and wiggled his eyebrows.
“You’re such a fucking perv.” I smacked his shoulder.
“Ow.” He grabbed the spot where I hit him.
“Oh, come on, that didn’t hurt you pussy.”
“Yeah it did!” He rubbed the spot. “Been lift
ing weights lately?”
“Actually there is a gym in my apartment and there was one in rehab. Gave me something to do. Another stress reliever, I guess.”
“Look at that, my brother the gym rat.” He lowered his voice and pumped out his chest. “Hey, bro, can you spare a scoop of protein?”
“Fuck you, man. Don’t you do Tai Chi or something?”
He laughed. “It’s Krav Maga. Israeli military technique.”
“Better not let Dad know or he’ll think you’re a liberal terrorist.”
“Well, I’ve already got the beard started and I do have a really nice new pair of square framed glasses that I use for reading.”
I curled my lip. “That’s the worst fucking stereotype for a liberal. I would have gone with something a lot better, like that you joined a protest and wear tie-dye.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you part of a protest in college?”
I smirked and chewed on a piece of bacon. “Yeah, but the black sheep gets away with those type of things.”
***
My interview was downtown and not too far of a walk from my apartment, but the air was getting chilly enough that I put on a lined trench coat over my suit.
The places I was interviewing at were all starting to blend together. Whether it was a bank or an investment firm, they all had the same tall skyscrapers with large windows but everyone was jammed into cubicles, spending their days staring at a computer. Was that really what I wanted? Was Sam right?
Fuck.
I had her go to the trouble of applying for jobs that hit a certain criteria—six-figure starting salary, MBA required, and downtown— but was it really what I wanted?
I looked up at the latest building. Did I want to spend the rest of my life as another name in a computer system?
No. No. I didn’t.
I turned around and headed in the other direction. I didn’t exactly know where I was going, just that I didn’t want to be there.
Walking past the drones in their suits and ties, who barely paid attention to anything other than their phone, was suffocating. I loosened my tie then completely took it off, stuffing it in my pocket.
I still couldn’t breathe any easier.
I undid the first few buttons on my shirt and fanned it out, my tattoos exposed. That got a few head turns from the people on their phones, but not enough that they stopped. They just kept going wherever they were headed. They knew where they were going when I was just as lost as ever.
***
I kept walking and walking until I ended up in front of The Pancake House. It wasn’t where I expected to end up, but I should have known that all roads would lead me to someplace I felt comfortable. And it was better than ending up at the front door of my dealer.
Sam wasn’t anywhere in sight, so I took a seat at the counter next to a kid with his hoodie up over his head.
I turned my coffee cup over and then pulled my jacket off, rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt. If it wasn’t just above freezing I would have taken the damn thing off and just sat in my undershirt.
“Cool ink,” a high-pitched voice said.
I turned to look at the kid next to me who was staring at my arms.
“Thanks. You have any?” I asked.
He pulled some ear buds out of his ears and pulled his hood down to reveal a mop of curly red hair. The kid looked even younger than I thought. He probably wasn’t even out of high school yet. “No. Not yet. My mom would probably have a shit fit.”
I leaned in. “Yeah, but if you get it in a place that your mom won't see.”
“Mikey, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?” A thick, Irish accent bellowed.
I thought it might have been a guy until I looked up and saw a stocky woman exit the kitchen door. She had curly brown hair that was up in a tight bun that pulled her face so tight I wasn’t sure how she could even move it.
“Come on, Ma,” Mikey said.
“Sorry, ma’am. Your son was just curious about my tattoos so we started up a conversation,” I said, offering a small smile.
She looked from her son to me and back to her son again. “Has this gentleman also been helping you study for your history exam? Because if you don’t pass that, you’ll be getting the Constitution tattooed on your arm until you remember it.”
I laughed. “Well, I do know a thing or two about American history and government.” I nodded toward Mikey’s tattered book bag on the stool next to him. “What are you studying?”
His eyes widened before he scrambled to pull out a notebook along with a book that was covered by one of those brown paper bags and had band names written all over it in red marker. “Early American history. The Revolutionary War, mostly.”
I glanced up and saw Sam looking at me from the kitchen window. I smiled at her and she shook her head, but I couldn’t help but notice she was smiling too.
“Okay, Mikey, let’s talk history.”
***
“That was a really nice thing you did,” Sam said, pouring me another cup of coffee.
Mikey and his mom had left a few minutes before. She took her break early to drive him to school. He may have been young, but it was kind of cool to hang out with someone who seemed to take me seriously just because I was an adult. He didn’t judge my tattoos or that I got really excited to talk about America. He just wanted someone to talk to him on his level.
“Yeah, well, I had to help the kid out so he didn’t get his ass beat by his mom,” I said, putting the cup to my lips.
“Mikey’s had it pretty rough. Brenda works double shifts here a lot and the kid just hangs out in one of the booths, listening to music. Always alone. I’ve never seen him talk to anyone and today was the first time I’ve seen him smile.
“Really?” I asked. “The kid started talking to me as soon as I sat down.”
She smiled. “You do have a special charm about you.”
“It’s probably just the happy pills.”
“Which you must have not taken this morning or you’d be at your interview,” she said, raising her eyebrows expectantly.
I groaned. “I did take them...I just...” I sighed. “I don’t know. I got up to the building, looked at it, and thought ‘this isn’t where I want to spend the rest of my life’.”
“So you’d rather spend it here at this diner, talking to kids about history?” She asked.
I thought on that. It was actually one of the better experiences I’d had since I left rehab. I was more in my element sitting and talking to the kid and laughing, than I was behind a desk.
“Yeah. I guess I would.”
Sam set the carafe of coffee down. “Then maybe that’s what we need to start looking for in jobs for you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I should be a teacher?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe something that involves helping kids that are like Mikey. Kids that are depressed and just want someone to hang out with them.”
I’d never thought about doing anything that involved kids, but maybe it was time to start thinking outside of the box and find what truly made me happy.
Chapter 12
Since I wasn’t working yet and was home a lot, Trigg decided to take his computer to a coffee shop most days. This left me and Sam alone, which I didn't mind.
“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Sam asked, as I rolled out of bed.
She was already dressed in some faded jeans and a green thermal. Her eyes were lined with dark black makeup and her lips painted red with her hair pulled back in a black bandana.
I stood up and made sure to turn away to adjust my morning wood. I’d started wearing pajama pants for that reason and because Sam had still been sleeping in my bed. She made sure she was always on the far side and never touched me, but just knowing she was there was enough to drive me crazy. Or at least my dick crazy.
“Look for more non-profit jobs, annoy Trigg, and ask you what your Thanksgiving plans are,” I said, running my ha
nd over my chest and walking to the kitchen.
She smirked, scooting a full coffee mug on the counter toward me. This mug was another one from her collection. It was glittery and had a Disney princess on it. She always liked giving me the girlier mugs. I think she just wanted to see if she could get a rise out of me, but I didn’t mind it.
“If you’re going to try and invite me to the governor’s house for your family Thanksgiving, then you can think about that again and then decide not to,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. Her mug matched mine and I couldn’t help but wonder if she did that on purpose.
“And why not? I’ll be there. Trigg will be there. You can sit and have my parents stare at you and ask me if you’re my girlfriend all night.”
None of that actually sounded fun to me, but it was better than thinking about Sam sitting all alone in the apartment, microwaving something for dinner only to have the damn cat eat it.
“Look, I know you have this urge to take care of me, but I’d rather not go to your parents. It’s fine. I’ll work at the diner and hopefully the old, lonely men that come in will give me some good tips or offer me money for blow jobs. Either way, I’ll be fine.”
I glared at her. “I seriously hope old men aren’t offering you money to do that and you aren’t taking them up on those offers.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, some actually do try and solicit me, but no, I’m not some kind of whore that takes them up on those offers. I don’t know what you think of me, Tripp, but I’m not that kind of girl.”
She went to turn, but I grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look back at me. “I’m sorry, Sam. I don’t think that of you. At all.” I ran my thumb along her wrist where her sleeve ended. Where I knew that she had a tattoo of a butterfly. There was something about her that kept drawing me in. Something that pulled me.
I had started to memorize each one of her tattoos. The ones I saw at least. She was all pale skin and colorful ink. I liked her best when she was natural. Right before bed when she took off her makeup and stripped down to shorts and a tank top. There was something about her being raw like that, that I really liked.
