Chasing the Wild Sparks

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Chasing the Wild Sparks Page 4

by Alexander, Ren


  “No… I mean he had a boner the entire time he was with you. Well, maybe it was only a semi.”

  I turn my head fast enough that I may have given myself whiplash. “Why were you looking at his crotch?”

  “It was pretty out there, Hadders.”

  “I think you were looking for it.”

  He gasps. “Are you saying Wilder has a small penis? Wow.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond, not that I would elaborate to him about a detail like that. “Every time you’re together, he’s all over you. So, that must mean he’s always hard. Jesus, that must hurt.”

  “Stop talking, Gregory.”

  “You might not want to call me that.” He turns his head to me and overdramatically licks his lips. “It gets me hot.”

  I punch his arm and he astonishingly checks his mirror before he swerves into the other lane on the highway. He mockingly shrieks, “Look what you made me do!” I purposefully ignore him and stare at the dashboard. He giggles and reaches over, grabbing my knee. “Oh, Hadders, I’m teasing.” He snorts. “It only hurts him if you don’t jack him off.”

  I irritably push his hand from my knee and slouch back into my seat, crossing my arms over my stomach and sighing heavily.

  “I’m kidding, well, not really.” He slaps my thigh. “Come on, lighten up, hag!”

  I remain quiet. My eyes take in the muddled landscape speeding by at an exceedingly high rate of speed, per the norm with Rod’s driving. Right now, I’m not in a playful mood as Rod usually is. I can’t stop thinking about Finn. Why was he so pissed off? He was in a good mood when I first saw him today, but then it was like a creeping darkness set in and he changed. Was he mad at me? I hope not. I miss him. When he put his arms around me, I felt the missing pieces of my heart fall back into place. I was complete. When I had to walk away from him, the pieces were once again snatched away from me. How can I even complain? It’s undeniably my fault that we don’t see each other during the week. I have no right to whine about not seeing him.

  Rod sighs. “What’s wrong?” he presses me, and from the corner of my eye, I see him gazing over at me, taking his eyes off the road again.

  I shake my head, unsure whether to answer him or not. I probably should so he’ll pay attention to the road; however, nobody, especially Rod, wants to hear me drone on about missing my boyfriend. I don’t even want to hear it. I’m entirely accountable for this situation, but I don’t want to be the one to give in about this. Morgan has said that I’m so stubborn that I can’t even admit to myself that I am stubborn.

  I refuse to believe that.

  “Tell me. I know something’s bothering you.” Rod is actually worried about me? How did this happen? How did I become a damsel in distress? My life was good until my heart and biological clock started demanding more.

  “I miss Finn. We don’t see each other as much as I want to. I know it’s stupid and annoying of me to tell you that when it’s so easy for me to fix it.” I look down to the gray-carpeted floor as if it holds the key to my dilemma.

  Rod softly chuckles. “I understand. You don’t see him all week. I’d miss him, too.”

  I lift my eyes to his face. “You would,” I utter and bite my lip, stifling a laugh.

  “Hey! I’m only saying if I were you and I was dating the guy, I’d miss him, too. I’m not saying I would date him. God!” He throws his head back before looking to the road again.

  I laugh and rest my head against the headrest, turning my body as much as I can behind my seatbelt, to face him, tucking my hands underneath my cheek against the seat. Rod is the perfect remedy for my blues. “You’re so hilarious.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He shakes his head and aimlessly gestures his free hand. “I honestly don’t always try to be.”

  “I know. That’s what makes you so funny. So endearing,” I smirk at him.

  He glances over to me. “Endearing? Not a word I really want attached to me or my reputation.”

  I roll my eyes. “You don’t have that kind of reputation, Rod.”

  “I’m working on it!” He sighs melodramatically before checking his mirrors and changing lanes. His eyes are back on me. “You’re pretty funny, too, Hadders. You want to have dinner with me?”

  I yawn and close my eyes. “Sure. I have nothing else to do.”

  “Um, thanks? You’re such a pal,” he says, sounding slightly wounded.

  I laugh and reach up to pinch his cheek. “You are just so damn adorable!”

  He teasingly grumbles, “Endearing and adorable. That shit screams hot stud.” I giggle and mindlessly gaze at the trees blurring past Rod’s side window. Rod lays his hand on top of the steering wheel and flicks his fingers abstractly. He momentarily looks over at me. “Why didn’t you stay with Wilder last night then? You said he had to work on his bike this morning, but why did that stop you from staying at his apartment?” Because I’m an idiot.

  I straighten in my seat, not really wanting to talk about last night. “He was out with Ricky and some other friends late.”

  “Oh?” he asks expectantly. I look down at my black fingernails Morgan hates so much. I keep them polished and shiny. I don’t think they look as trashy as Morgan thinks they do. “Where was Finn late last night that you couldn’t stay with him?”

  “He went out drinking with Ricky,” I answer, avoiding Rod’s examination. “So, I just stayed home. I’m not sure what else they did. I didn’t talk to him before the race. I knew he’d most likely be busy and probably hungover. I felt like I’d be bothering him since I knew he had to get some things done this morning.”

  “Bothering him? It apparently was bothering you that you didn’t know where he was last night. You have every right to know what the hell he was doing and with whom.”

  My eyebrows tug together in consternation and I look at Rod. “I didn’t say it bothered me. I knew what he was doing last night and that he was with his friends. Why should I doubt that?”

  “I’m not saying you should doubt anything. If you trust him then there isn’t an issue. Do you trust him?” Do I trust Finn? Yes. But, have I ever thought there was a possibility he might find someone else. Someone better suited for him? Prettier? …Yes. Every blessed day. Do I think he would actually sleep with another woman? No. I don’t think he’d go that far and do that to me…I hope he wouldn’t.

  I pivot my head to face Rod. “With all my heart,” I reply ardently. “Finn would never cheat on me.”

  He nods and gives me a smile. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad you can trust him.”

  I quickly nod my head before gazing again out my door’s window. “I can.”

  I think…

  From our booth in Sandy’s Family Restaurant, I check my phone for any messages or missed calls while Rod is in the restroom. One missed call from my friend, Bethany. No messages.

  “Watching porn?” Rod snickers when he deftly slides back into his seat across from me and pulls his glass of beer closer to him.

  “Yes. Did you know there is a sex video of you and Finn on the Internet?”

  Without any kind of warning or courteous heads-up, Rod powerfully sprays his beer all over our table, the mauve-colored wall and me. After the initial shock wears off and I’m thoroughly dripping, I put my hand over my mouth and laugh until I’m gasping for air, drawing the attention of several other people in the country-centric dining room.

  Rod coughs several times before he is able to speak. “What the hell?” he wheezes, grabbing a handful of napkins. I rip a few out of his hands and wipe off my phone, my shirt and the table.

  “That’s so gross!” I complain as I try to remove the beer stains from my light blue top.

  Rod blows his nose. “I hope you’re referring to the video. Fuck! Sorry. Shit that burns! Wait. Is there really a video?”

  I laugh and my eyes sweep the patrons around us who are frowning at Rod’s outburst. I wince at them before answering him. “Yes. There really is one of you and Finn doing things to each other. Don’t
you remember doing them with my boyfriend?” I raise my eyebrows and tip my head to the side.

  His mouth opens and shuts before he spouts, “Shut up! At least your shirt is now see-through.” Horrified, I automatically look down to make sure I’m not as indecent as he asserts. “Made you look. Ha!”

  I narrow my eyes at him, giving him a dour look. “By the way, thank you. Not only do I now smell like a brewery, but I also look like a walking kegger. Anyway, I don’t even have email, let alone Internet access on my phone. How could I have possibly been watching a video on it, Rod?”

  “I forgot! That’s not exactly the first thing that came to mind when you told me what you were watching.” He nods at my phone. “You need to get rid of that piece of shit and upgrade to something sweet. Tell Wilder to buy you a new phone. He rakes in the cash.”

  “Why? I’m okay with this one. I don’t really talk on the phone much, except to Finn, Bethany and my dad. I see everyone else I talk to at work. I’d buy my own phone anyway.”

  “Well, get one. That way you can check your mail and search for porn when you’re away from your computer.”

  I solemnly nod and skate my lips into a regretful smile. “Yes. That is a must. I just can’t stay away from porn.”

  “I have the same problem,” he replies gravely.

  I scrunch my face and incline away from him. “Eww!”

  He gleefully laughs. “I was only joking, Hadders.” Yeah. I doubt that.

  He leans back against the seat and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Damn it,” he mumbles.

  “What?” I inquire before I take a sip of my lemonade.

  “I missed a call from Eden. My mom said Eden has been feeling so tired lately and it has been more than usual.” I notice that when Rod talks about his family or anything pertaining to his home state of North Carolina, his voice takes on a slight drawl of a Southern accent. It’s the only time I hear it. As soon as he begins talking about something else, it’s gone. Quirky Rod.

  “What does her doctor say?”

  He sets his phone down on the table. “Just to get plenty of rest, stay away from sick people and to continue her swimming and yoga. Yoga. I never understood that shit.”

  Rod’s 30 year-old sister has cystic fibrosis. She’s been told she could live to see 35, but Eden doesn’t think she’ll see it. I can’t imagine what’s she’s going through, or even what Rod is. They are very close and I worry about how it will affect him when she dies. It’s such a heartbreaking diagnosis, knowing at a young age that you have a certain death sentence looming over you every day.

  “She only seems to be getting worse. Mom said that Eden is on oxygen most of the day, has lost more weight, and is practically living in the bathroom. I have to ask my mother about Eden because even though I talk to her often, she won’t tell me how she’s really doing. I know she’s not going to be around much longer and it scares me. I don’t see her much. I try to make it back to Durham as much as I can, but not like I should.” Rod runs a hand through his hair and drops his hand on the table. “Fuck, I am such a horrible brother.”

  I shake my head and fold my arms on top of the table, leaning forward onto them. “No, you’re not. You talk to her a lot. You always worry about her.”

  “I do. I think about her all the time.” He frowns and props his chin on his fist. “I just have a bad feeling, Hadley. I don’t want to lose my sister. She’s one of my best friends.”

  “I know you don’t. Why don’t you go visit her soon?”

  “I want to.”

  “Maybe for Easter next weekend? What are you doing then? Why don’t you drive down there?”

  The waitress brings our dinners. Rod ordered a steak with fries and I ordered a chicken Caesar salad. He rolls his eyes.

  Puzzled, I ask, “What?”

  “Are you watching your weight? Really?”

  “I wanted a salad. The dressing is fattening, so I guess I don’t care about the fat content today.”

  “Uh, huh. Wilder probably wants something to grab onto when he’s—”

  I widen my eyes at him. “Please don’t finish that statement.”

  Rod laughingly shakes his head as he cuts his steak. “I was going to say when he’s hugging you. You’re paranoid.”

  “You’re crude.”

  “I’ve been told that, too.” He grins at me and opens his mouth to show off his chewed food.

  I wrinkle my nose at him. “There are so many words I can use to describe you, Gregory Rodwell.”

  “All starting with awesome and well-endowed.”

  I giggle and stab a forkful of lettuce and chicken. “Yep, but seriously. Go see Eden. Remind her of how insane you are. I know she’d love to see you.”

  “I will. I’ll surprise her.”

  “I love it.”

  His negligible twang returns. “I’ll call my mom to make sure that Eden will be home. It’s always good to check. Since she moved back home, my mom has been hovering over her like a hawk. That’s not sitting well with Eden at all, so maybe she made plans to get the hell out for the day.” Rod stops to take a drink of his beer before he asks, “What about you? What are you and the Finnster doing next weekend?”

  “He’s taking me to his mother’s in Delaware.”

  “That sounds…fun.”

  “Very.”

  “Is there going to be a bunch of people there?”

  “No. A couple of his sisters. Simone, probably. Chrishelle, I think. Leighton is in Texas, so she most likely won’t be there. He has a stepbrother, but I don’t think he’ll be there.”

  “Will she make you sleep in separate rooms?”

  “I’ve never stayed there, so I don’t know where his mom, Julie, will want us to sleep.”

  “Well, he is a good little Catholic boy and he goes to Mass every weekend.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “If he’s so devout, how come he’s okay with wanting to live with you and having premarital sex, but he’s not okay with marrying you? Don’t they frown upon that?”

  “Yes. I don’t know why he is okay with those, but then he’s against me being on the Pill.” I freeze mid-bite. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did I let that slip out?

  Rod drops his knife and fork, causing loud clattering to fill the room; once again drawing attention to our table.

  “Holy shit! Are you serious?”

  I whip my head around to survey the damage. There are six or seven other people in the room and they are all staring at us. They must think this is Rod’s encore performance following his hose job. Shit.

  “Keep your voice down!” I whisper angrily.

  His eyes swoop around our area before he whispers back, “Are you shitting me?”

  “Why did I just tell you that? Please don’t say anything, Greg,” I plead. “If Finn knew I told you that, he’d be so pissed.”

  “I can’t believe he agrees with that. That’s kind of odd for him, isn’t it?”

  “A lot of people don’t follow every teaching of their religions. Most people pick and choose what they want to abide by. That’s just one of the rules he follows.”

  Rod scoffs, “Like that is such a hard rule for him to follow. He’s not the one who could get pregnant.”

  “I guess not,” I concede.

  “And you agreed to that? Why? You’re not Catholic.”

  “No, I’m not. We talked about birth control and I mentioned it… He didn’t force me not to go on it or anything. He told me about his views and I didn’t think it was really a big deal. I wanted to respect his wishes. His mom drifted away from Catholicism after her two divorces. His dad is also Catholic. Finn is a very spiritual soul. I suppose he should be with the way he risks his life all the time just for the rush. He teases fate and it is driving me insane.”

  “Did he not want any of his former girlfriends to not be on the Pill either?”

  “No. I asked him that. I’m the only one. He said he never was in a long-term, committed relationship bef
ore me, so he didn’t bring up his beliefs.”

  “I don’t get it, Hadley.” Rod sets his knife and fork down much quieter this time and leans over his plate in an attempt to keep his voice down. “Why is he pushing his beliefs off onto you when you have no plans to join the Catholic Church, or he has no plans to marry you? And, how can he be so adamant about not having kids, but he deliberately risks knocking you up? Furthermore, how does he not get you pregnant?”

  I grimace at his questions and at the direction of our conversation. “Forget I said anything, Rod.” I take a long sip of my lemonade and glance around the now-empty room.

  He shakes his head emphatically and taps his finger on the shiny, wood table. “No way. You said he doesn’t want kids, but he doesn’t want you to use birth control, either? How’s that work?”

  I avert my eyes from his scrutiny and anxiously play with my ponytail. “I didn’t say that. I said he doesn’t want me on the Pill.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  I look down at the table. “We use condoms and spermicide jelly, okay?” I whisper, beyond mortified I brought this up in a restaurant with Rod, of all people.

  His tone is thick with ambiguity. “So, he’d rather use those than you being on the Pill and not having to use anything at all? That’s fu—unusual.”

  “There are certain times when we don’t have to use anything.” I raise a closed hand to my face, trying to hide my embarrassment. I’m ready for my straightjacket. Why can’t I keep my fucking mouth shut?

  Realization threads through his voice. “Oh!” I hesitantly glance up at him. He holds up his hands and cringes away from the table, quickly adding, “Enough said.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter gratefully and pick up a forkful of food, requiring my mouth to do something else besides talking.

  “Although, I think maybe deep down, he wants to get you pregnant.”

  I nearly gag on lettuce. My eyes fly up to his face in disbelief. “What? That’s not true at all.”

  He shrugs. “Just a thought.”

  “There’s no way, Rod. He’d rather slit his wrists.”

 

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