by Chloe Walsh
“I understand you’re under a lot more pressure than my other students,” he said in a kinder voice, “You graduate in June and your business can have your entire attention. However, you have six more months, and I’d hate to see you lose your focus on the final hurdle. You’ve worked too hard for this. Don’t blow it.” I nodded curtly and he stepped aside. I stalked outside feeling hard done by. I had straight A’s in his class, and all my other classes. It was fucking petty to badger me for missing a couple of classes. My grades hadn’t even slipped.
I made my way across the campus quad to the entrance of the student café. Cam waved from the table inside the window. Good, she was early for a change. I met Cam and Derek for coffee during class breaks most days, which was less this year because I only had eight hours’ worth of classes a week. “Hey,” I said, slumping down in the chair across from her. “Hello to you to sunshine. Dare I ask who’s put you in such a good mood?” I dropped my notebook bag on the chair beside me and leaned my elbows on the table. “Professor Peterson,” I growled, “Thinks he knows fucking everything as usual.” Cam raised her brow as she swallowed a sip of her latte. “Really, I thought you he liked you?” she said, wiping foamy milk from her lip. “He does, that’s the problem. He’s all up in my shit because I missed a few of his classes.”
The brunette waitress with the huge rack placed a steaming cup of black coffee in front of me. “Thanks Lauren,” I said reading her nametag, slipping a twenty out of my pocket and handing it to her. “No problem. I know how you like it.” She twirled her hair around her finger and smiled down at me. “Uh, keep the change?” I told her, feeling a little uncomfortable from the way she was staring at me. “Oh thanks, you were always big with your tips.” I edged further away from her. “Okay,” I raised a brow to Cam for help. She scoffed and shook her head with that ‘you’re on your own buddy’ expression.
“So my shift finishes in five minutes, and my place is just off campus. You remember the place…” Oh, so that was what the sexual innuendos were about; I had forgotten. “Sorry, not interested.” I was getting tired of girls throwing themselves at me. I wished I could have Lee here with me, so they’d back the fuck off. As much as I wanted her here, the need to protect her from Rachel and all my bullshit outweighed that want.
She pouted, and put her hands on her hips. Jesus Christ, take the hint. “I’m sure I can get you interested. You sure were interested last time.” I mentally scolded myself for sleeping with the girl, but in my defence, I’d been a horny freshmen and she’d been an easy fuck. I was a different person back then.
Cam cleared her throat, “Um sweetie, maybe you could go and interest yourself in a book? Preferable one that explains body language, so next time you can read the signs when a man isn’t interested.” I doubled up with laughter, as Lauren marched off. “That was brilliant. Her face was priceless.” Cam smiled, checking her nails. “What can I say, I’m amazing.”
The café door opened and Derek strolled in, “Hey,” he said, chirpier than I had. He kissed Cam on the head before sliding into the chair alongside her. “Oh thank Jesus we’re finishing for the holidays today,” he said, beckoning a waitress with a hand. Thankfully, a different one came to take his coffee order. “If I have to sit through another one of Professor Garethy’s lectures on maternal fucking monkeys, I swear I’ll stab myself in the eyes with this spoon.” He gestured towards to spoon on the table. “That kind of defeats the purpose, considering you’d be blind, not deaf?” I couldn’t figure out why Derek was taking philosophy. He was the least philosophical person I knew, it you didn’t count his theories on the wonderful world of the vagina; ‘live by the vagina, die by the vagina’.
Derek huffed, as he shrugged off his coat, “You obviously haven’t seen Professor Garethy. Trust me; I’d be doing my eyes a kind mercy.” He shuddered dramatically. “Oh poor baby, let’s go home and I’ll show you something that will make you reconsider blinding yourself,” Cam suggested and I gagged. “I might need something for my mouth too,” Derek said eagerly before sticking his tongue down her throat.
LEE
Christmas was my favourite time of year. Even as a child, when Santa didn’t bring me presents and I didn’t get turkey, I loved the holiday. I used to love listening to the Christmas songs on the radio and the other children in my class talking about what toys they were getting, and how their moms’ baked apple pies and cinnamon rolls. My favourite Christmas was when I was seven.
My father’s appendix had burst on Christmas Eve and he was rushed to hospital. He’d left me with Cam’s parents, much to my delight. I loved their house; it was always so clean and smelled so nice. I got my first Christmas present that year; a Malibu Barbie. I remembered Mrs Frey telling me that Santa knew I was sleeping at their house and had left my present there. I remembered the sad look on her face when I asked her if Santa knew how to find my daddy’s house, because I had never gotten a present before. She had cried and I’d thought I was in big trouble for making her cry, but Mrs Frey had hugged me instead of hitting me. It was the best Christmas.
“Since you’re the youngest, you should do the honours,” Kyle said, bringing me back to the present. Cam and Derek were out, and we decided to decorate the tree. Kyle pressed the angel ornament into my hands. “I don’t know if you noticed,” I pointed to the tree, “But that’s a seven foot Christmas tree, and I’m about two foot too short.” He snorted, “That’s easily solved short-ass.”
I squealed in surprise, as Kyle lifted me up. I placed the angel on the top of the tree. “Make sure it’s on straight baby.” I checked, “It is.” Kyle set me down and we stepped back to admire our work.
The tree looked quite tragic. Mismatched baubles were scattered on the branches with every different colour of tinsel. The lights were a hideous blue. I burst out laughing at the sight, “I guess we won’t win any awards for decorating.”
He wrapped his arms around me, “I don’t care. It’s the first Christmas I’ve wanted celebrate. I’m proud of our shitty tree.” I smiled when he said ‘our tree’. “This is my first Christmas having a tree to decorate. Daddy never got one for the house.” Kyle’s face darkened and I regretted saying anything. He clenched his fists, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, and went to clear away the empty decoration boxes.
“Why are you sorry?” He asked, following me into the kitchen. I squashed the boxes and placed them in the recycling bin. “For bringing up my father and making you angry.” He strode over and wrapped his arms around me, “I’m not angry with you baby,” he kissed my forehead, “I’m fucking furious with him. When you tell me you’ve never been trick or treating or had a Christmas tree, it makes me want to get in my truck, drive to Montgomery and kick his ass.” I could feel Kyle’s hands trembling and I knew he was serious.
“You’ve fixed those things for me,” I whispered, kissing the skin that covered his heart, “You’ve given me a whole lot of firsts.” He rubbed my cheek with his thumb. Leaning down, he studied my face with a serious expression “I want to fix everything for you.” He kissed me softly, “I want to give you everything you’ve never had. Everything you want.” I smiled, and patted his chest, “Then you’ve already given me everything, because all I want is you.”
The doorbell rang, and I brushed past Kyle to answer it. We ordered pizza and I wanted to pay this time. It made me uncomfortable when Kyle paid for everything. I figured he was used to doing that with Rachel. Well I was nothing like her.
“That will be twenty-two even” the delivery guy said. I pulled a fist of change out of my pocket and counted his money. “So, are you new to the area? Because I know I would remember a pretty face like yours.” I blushed at his forwardness. “Um, no I live here.”
I suddenly felt very exposed in Kyle’s white shirt. Dammit, I should have thrown on some pants before opening the door. Kyle had taken me in kitchen before we started decorating, and I’d thrown his shirt on rather than go upstairs and get dressed. “Really?” He
leaned closer to the door, “I’m sure that accent isn’t from around here?” I shifted awkwardly, “No, I’m from Louisiana.”
The delivery guy smiled, “I’m Jessie. And you are?” A firm hand clenched around my waist, “And she’s mine,” Kyle said coolly, holding out a fifty dollar bill. He pulled me against his side. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face from his possessiveness. I guessed we looked a sight; Kyle in his black slacks and me in his shirt.
The delivery guy’s eyes widened, his cheeks pinked as he mumbled something about being in a rush. He grabbed the money thrust our pizza into Kyle’s hand. “Keep the change.” Kyle closed the door and gave me an exasperated look. “What?” I asked, taking the pizza from his hand. I went and curled up in my usual spot on the couch.
“What? Baby you can’t go answering the door looking like that.” I shrugged, swallowing a mouth-watering bite. I lifted my legs for Kyle to sit down, then lowered them onto his lap. “It’s just a shirt,” Kyle groaned, squeezing my calves, “Exactly; it’s just a shirt, just a very white, very see through shirt.” Now I was the one groaning, “I forgot I was wearing it okay? I was rushing to beat you to the door because I wanted to pay this time, and forgot what I was wearing.”
Kyle grabbed the pizza box from my lap and tossed it on the coffee table. Slipping his hands around my waist, he pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him. “As sweet as I think it is that you want to pay, I’m the man, so you won’t be paying for our food. Or for anything.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a kiss. My head was swimming when he pulled back, “And secondly, the only person who’s going to see those big juicy titties of yours is me.”
He lowered his head, nipping my nipple through my shirt. I panted, instantly wet. “No more answering the door in my shirt.” Kyle continued his onslaught of my breasts until I was writhing on top of him, begging him to take me.
KYLE
I couldn’t face going home. Looking into Lee’s trusting eyes would break me. I needed a plan. I paced the floor of my office. Rachel would be back tomorrow. I had no doubt about it. It would be two years tomorrow and that bitch never missed a chance to remind me.
I’d packed her and her friends off on an all-expenses paid trip to Paris as soon as I’d come back from Louisiana. I’d needed her out of my hair, and she’d been badgering me with months about going. It seemed to be the perfect plan.
Except now she was coming back my perfect plan didn’t seem so fucking perfect anymore. I had two choices; tell Lee everything and risk her hating me forever, or make a deal with the devil herself. The risk of losing Lee was too fucking painful to even contemplate; bargaining with Rachel was my only option. I needed out, because I sure as hell couldn’t live my life like this anymore.
There was a brief knock on my door, before it opened. “What troubling you Kyle? I can hear you banging around from the lobby.” I closed my eyes, as Linda approached me. “Go sit down and tell me what’s going on,” she urged, patting my shoulder, “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” I smiled sadly at her kind face, That was Linda all over, jumping in to fight my battles. I sighed, went, and sat in my chair. She leaned against the desk, and waited. Where did I start? “The night grandpa died, I killed someone.”
I expected her to scream. Hit me; Shout at me, hell even flinch. I was not expecting her to laugh. “I’m serious Linda. I killed someone. It was an accident but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened. The blood is on my hands.” Linda sobered, “Okay, why don’t you start at the beginning, and we’ll take it from there.” I took a deep breath, and told Linda everything. I bared my fucking soul to the woman, warts and all.
“So this is the reason you tolerate her?” Linda asked when I finished. I nodded, “What else can I do? I was the one driving the car that night. I caused her injuries.. It’s my fault and I’ve got a responsibility to the girl.”
Linda walked over to the mini bar and poured two glasses of whiskey. “I don’t know kiddo,” she said, handing me a glass, “Something doesn’t add up.” I groaned, dragging my hand through my hair. I’d been through it constantly for the past two years. If I had a way out, I would have found it. I tossed my drink back, went and poured another. “Bring that bottle over her kiddo, I’m gonna need it.” I passed Linda the bottle and sat back down. I could see the wheels turning in her head, as she silently assessed the situation. “Go though it once more,” she said and I groaned. “Just humour me Kyle.”
I’d come back from my grandfather’s will reading, I’d just found out he’d left me everything. I hadn’t fucking wanted a dime. My father had gone berserk, threatening my with law suits and what not, but I hadn’t given two shits about how he felt. I’d been the one holding my grandfather’s hand as the life seeped out of him. I’d been there alone. My father hadn’t shown up, nor had my brother. He’d been too fucking busy. “I came back from will reading, she was in bed with him.” It still fucking hurt to think about it. Not the fact that Rachel cheated on me; but that Mike had fucked me over. I had actually gotten along with him up until then. “ We had a fight.” I had my brother and my girlfriend in my grandfather’s house, fucking like rabbits in the kitchen. “He’d sprouted a bunch of bullshit about him being the rightful heir to grandpa’s estate and that I’d screwed him and his father out of a fortune.” I’d had to leave or I would have killed him. “I got in the car.” Rachel had chased after me, she’d jumped in to the passenger side. I’d told her to get out, but she wouldn’t .“She didn’t have her belt on.” I’d been so fucking angry, I hadn’t been concentrating on the road, going too fast. “I see the red light. She lost the baby.”
LEE
“So, I was thinking we could throw a party tomorrow night? What do you guys think?” Cam asked as we all sat at the table having dinner, minus Kyle. He had to work late for the third night in a row. “Cool babe whatever, Think you can swing it before tomorrow night?” Derek asked between mouthfuls of bolognaise. Cam smiled sweetly at him and patted his head. “Derek please, I am the queen of party planning,” she then turned to me “What do you thing Lee?” she asked before taking a swig of beer from her bottle. I still wasn’t comfortable with the crowds, and parties, but I didn’t want to be buzz killer, “Sure, I don’t mind.” I swallowed a mouthful of bolognaise. Mmm Derek was an unbelievable cook. I gobbled another forkful, delicious. I was still feeling off, and this was the first bite I had managed in days.
“Well I do,” Kyle interrupted, as he marched into the kitchen. His face was like thunder, he was scowling at Cam. Jesus what was wrong now? “What?” Cam glowered back at him, “We throw parties here all the time Kyle, what’s the big deal?” His eyes narrowed and he hissed a sharp breath. Rummaging in the cupboard, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a large glass, swallowing it quickly. “The problem Camryn, is that maybe I don’t want a fucking party in my house tomorrow night.” He refilled his glass and guzzled another shot. “Isn’t it a little early for Jack to make an appearance?” Derek said calmly, clearing his plate from the table. “Keep your nose out of my fucking business Derek.”
I stood up and took my plate to the sink. I had also lost my appetite. “Oh please,” Cam snorted, “We haven’t had a party here weeks, it’s happening, so take your foot out of your ass and get with the program Carter.” Kyle glared at Cam, but said nothing. She stormed out of the kitchen. Derek followed her, muttering something to himself. He patted me on the shoulder as he left, as if to say ‘he’s all yours’. I was contemplating jumping into the sink and seeing if the drain could suck me down. I didn’t know how to handle Kyle when he was in this mood. I carried on washes the dishes, not really knowing what else to do. My insides were swirling and I wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the bolognaise.
“I don’t want you at any damn party,” Kyle growled from across the kitchen. He wanted me to disagree with him I realised. He wanted an argument. I was too tired to play games. “Okay,” I said calmly. Picking up the dishtowel, I
began to dry the plates. “Okay? That is it. You’re not going to fight with me on this?” Was there any point? He did not want me around his friends; a blind man could see that. “No, I’m not going to argue,” I sighed, “You don’t want me there, you obviously have your reasons.” I heard him sigh and cross the kitchen. His arms wrapped around my waist and my stomach churned, yep it was definitely the bolognaise. “Yeah I have. But it’s not what you think.” I bet. Kyle had his reasons and they made me feel about neigh high. “I’m gonna make this all right,” he slurred, “I’ll be free soon baby.” What the heck was he talking about? I continued tidying the kitchen in numb calculated moves. I was trying so damn hard not to vomit. “You want some help?” He kissed my neck. I shuddered as a sharp pain shot through my side. I bit my lip to hold in my scream and shook my head. The cramps were getting worse. He stared at me for a moment then nodded, “I’m gonna take a shower.” He walked to the kitchen door, and looked back. He shook his head and left. He was at the top of the stairs when I made a dive for the downstairs bathroom. I made it just in time to throw up the contents of my stomach. Uh I was never eating bolognaise again.
KYLE
Music was pumping from the stereo in my sitting room. Dozens of people were crammed inside my small house. Fuck. I downed what had to be my twelfth beer. I figured I deserved to get shit faced. Besides, I had a bad feeling about tonight. I could feel it in my guts, shit was going to go down tonight. The date was enough to make my skin crawl, December twenty third; two years to the day since the accident…fuck. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and chugged straight from the bottle. I didn’t want this fucking party. I would have preferred to be upstairs with Lee.
My only consolation was that she had listened to me and stayed up in her room. I had told her to lock her door and stay inside. She had agreed too easily, and that made me slightly suspicious. But then again, maybe it was because she wasn’t over that damn stomach flu. Shit, she said she was feeling bad earlier but I could not stay with her, I couldn’t risk Rachel talking to her before I did. My stomach twisted, thinking of how I left her curled up in her bed, she had been deathly pale. She hadn’t wanted to leave her; she’d practically begged me to stay with her. If she was not feeling better by tomorrow, I was going to take her to be checked out.
