When he wakes up, I’ve thrown eggs and bacon together which I scrounged up from the fridge.
Franz is holding his head, looking terribly hungover. “You don’t usually drink, do you?” I ask him.
He shakes his head, grimacing.
“Catherine?” he says.
“Yes.”
“If this high school lover of yours doesn’t work out, I’m going to come and find you.”
I smile, setting a plate in front of him, my chest feeling warm. “I’d like that,” I say.
~Johnny~
-53-
The Hulk hasn’t made an appearance in days.
Vanessa, on the other hand, is blossoming, turning into a ravishing wildflower right in front of my eyes. And I wonder how long he’s been around her, and wonder if he wasn’t the reason she was acting out the way she was. Putting her down, killing her self-esteem, making her feel unattractive when she truly isn’t.
We’re at the library again today, and Vanessa’s out of her skull with excitement at the new stock of gossip magazines on the shelves.
I’ve exhausted their supply of Sports Illustrated, so I’ve settled on a Jack Reacher novel. Pretty good.
I’m deep into my book when Vanessa drops the stack of magazines down with a slap on the table.
“You still reading that shit?” I say.
“It’s not shit.”
I don’t even bother taking my eyes off the book.
Vanessa sits in her chair and buries her face into the first one.
My eyes glance over at her quickly—
The book in my hand becomes heavy.
The—
“Oh, God!” she says. “This is hot.”
My eyes are glued to the cover. Glued.
“Fuck me,” she says. “What a babe.”
I put the book down. “Gimme that,” I say, snatching the magazine from her.
“Hey!”
I look at the cover more closely, much more closely.
I’d remember that weasel face anywhere. Anywhere. I remember standing in front of him, in his hospital room, telling him he needed to apologize to Cat. I remember how smug his face looked, remember the ink running down his arms. The man who didn’t give a shit about her.
And here he is.
Here—he—is.
Front page. BAD BOY DIRECTOR FROM BRAZIL.
He’s on a bed. There’s a girl underneath him. They’re...kissing. Another shot, a warm embrace. Her lips to his.
I open up the magazine, flip to the correct page.
“Johnny, you OK?”
There they are, smiling. Cat’s dressed...exquisitely. Tights. A sexy dress. Completely unlike her.
Next page.
“Hey, Johnny, speak to me. You’re pale as a sheet.” Vanessa’s hand goes to my wrist. I barely feel it.
Cat again, smiling, holding hands with some Super Star called Franz. Inside sources say they spent the night together.
And then another shot. Telephoto. Cat, in bed, and the big blond guy.
Motherfuck. Two guys? Two guys in less than two weeks? And I’ve been sitting here holding out...for what?
Brazil director, Tiago Espada, is furious. Says he and Cat Ramsey were college lovebirds and that he, regretfully, cheated on her. But now she’s doing the same to him. She told him she missed him, that she forgave him, as proven by their tumble on the bed that same morning.
“You pay for your past misdeeds,” Espada says. “That’s the point of INFIDELIDADE, my new film. I’m just...heartbroken about it all. She chose to be with a German Super Star instead of a nobody from the favelas.”
Tiago explains his modest upbringing, how he watched his mother being raped and murdered before his own eyes...
Modest upbringing. Fucking liar.
And yet...
And yet...
There she is, there she is, on his bed, kissing him. And, again, with this other guy.
“Johnny?” Vanessa’s hand squeezes my wrist harder. “Johnny, honey, talk to me.”
I push the magazine away. What the fuck have I been holding out for?
Because you’re an idiot, Johnny.
Vanessa, my friend, has been an opportunity in front of my eyes. A failure in opportunities.
And you, idiot, have failed to take her advice. Shit happens. You and Cat split up two years ago. It happened, and you’re still holding on to her.
Like a complete, fucking, douche.
“Johnny?” I look over at Vanessa’s beautiful blue eyes, the care inside them. “Fuck, dude, talk to me. You look...”
Her eyes are pained, caring.
“Talk to me, Johnny. Talk to me, Jesus. You’re freaking me out.”
I say nothing, nothing at all. Still stunned, still absolutely stunned at this curveball.
Vanessa stands, yanks me out of my chair.
Pulls me toward her.
And wraps her soft body around mine. “I don’t know what the fuck is happening,” she says, “so this is the only thing I know to do.”
She squeezes me, squeezes my body so tight I can hardly breathe.
I feel her trembling, as if she feels my pain, as if she’s weeping for me. “I don’t ever want anything bad to happen to you, Johnny. Ever.”
She pushes her forehead against my chest.
My hand rises, rises to her hair.
And I run my fingers through it.
~Cat~
-54-
I call Franz.
“You fucking bastard. I trusted you!”
“You think this was me? It was him, Catherine. He used me like he used you. He used my name to promote his stupid movie.”
Him.
“You came to me at that party. What, did Tiago put you up to it?”
“Verdammt Scheisse! I didn’t betray your trust, Catherine. Do you really think I’d do that?”
Fuck. Damn it. Shit.
Tiago’s smile, as I had left his room...
The fucker planned the whole thing. The whole, goddamned thing.
I shake my head, sick of it. Sick of the games. These stupid love games. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m...sorry, Franz.”
“It’s OK,” he says. “If it wasn’t me, someone else would have flirted with you, Catherine. I think Tiago got a bonus by the fact I was interested in you.”
I feel like an idiot. “I’m sorry,” I say again.
“What’s the true story of that picture, Catherine? Of you...in his bed.”
Aw, man. “It’s bullshit, Franz. He threw me onto it, and he—”
“Fine. I don’t need to know the details. I know how these magazines work. ‘Inside sources.’ It isn’t the first time they’ve done something like this to me. I believe you.”
I press my fingers against my temples, stare at my knees in the hotel room.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to go out for a drink,” Franz says.
“I’d love to...but...I can’t.”
“The photographers.”
“Yeah.”
“I see.”
“I’m sorry, Franz.”
“OK. Catherine?”
“Yes.”
“I repeat my offer to you: If this high school boy doesn’t work out for you, I’m going to—how do they say it in America?—hunt you down and make you my wife.”
I laugh. “Well, I’ll let you hunt me down, but we’ll have to talk about the wife thing.”
“OK. That’s good enough for me. Oh, and Catherine?”
“Yes. You have unbelievable legs. If you weren’t so in love, I would have turned up the charm a notch. No, not a notch, a megaton.”
In love?
“When are you leaving?” he asks.
“As soon as possible.”
-55-
Bill texts me, apologizing, telling me he had no idea Tiago and I had been an item.
Bill: But it’s great for the book, Catherine. Any publicity is good publicity!
Bleh.
I’m thinking
of Johnny at the airport, thinking of him on the plane, thinking of him when I land home and Thunder and Alice pick me up.
In love, Franz had said.
He’s right.
-56-
“I want you to leave Tiago alone,” I tell Thunder.
Alice has cooked some food for us, and we’re eating at our kitchen counter.
Thunder says nothing.
“Thunder?”
He chews.
“Leave him alone. You nearly killed him, and this is his way of getting revenge. Now we’re all even. Scores are settled.”
Thunder chews. “It’s a pretty pussy way of getting revenge, don’t you think? Can’t even fight like a man.”
“It’s enough, Thunder. I don’t care. You go for him, he’ll find another way to get back at me, or at you, or, fuck, at Johnny.”
Thunder looks over at Alice. She looks down at her plate.
“I want you to promise me, Thunder. Promise me.”
Thunder looks like he’s been stabbed with a knife.
“Promise me.”
“You know I keep my promises.”
“Yes.”
He looks over at Alice again. She’s concerned. She’s always concerned about Thunder trying to do good by all of us.
Resentfully, he looks back at me. “I promise not to take action against Tiago—”
“Thank you.”
“—unless he pulls something against you again.”
Well, I guess that’s good enough.
We shake on it.
“You heard from Johnny?” I ask.
He looks over at Alice again.
Alice picks up her plate, takes it to the sink.
“He’s, uhm—looks like he’s seeing someone, Cat. A girl. In...” Thunder looks behind me at Alice. “In Florida. They look...” He clears his throat. “It looks like the real deal.”
It feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.
The ceiling has just fallen on my head.
A plane has just flown through my stomach.
“Oh,” I say. Suddenly, the noise of my cutlery is too loud. “Would you excuse me?”
-57-
I find myself weeping in the bedroom. Hands to my face.
Nicole is gone.
Johnny is gone.
I remember the rock-bottom I hit with Nathan. All it was is fucking. Just fucking. Nothing else. And what’s the point of that?
I’m not that kind of girl. Not. And I never have been.
So what am I? An idiot? Someone who holds on to the promise of love despite the reality of its non-existence.
My sobs are quiet. And I can’t even tell you why I’m crying. I don’t fully know myself.
Tiago. Johnny. Dad.
Memories. So many memories in my head. Memories of people smiling, happy faces, photos, the first idea for the book, Nicole posing for me, Nicole asking me if she and Johnny could get together. Me telling her they could. Telling him they could.
Alice walks in the door, and I try and wipe my tears away. I feel fifteen again. Fifteen.
Alice—mom—puts me under her arm. “I’m fine,” I say.
“Sure.” She squeezes me against her. I try and pull away, but she refuses to let me go.
“I’m fine, I swear to you.”
“I know you are, honey.” She rocks me, and that only makes the tears worse. So much worse.
“I don’t know why I’m crying, mom. It’s stupid. Stupid.” I wipe my tears from my eyes, but it does no good.
“I know, honey. I know.”
“I’m gonna stop now. He and I are not even together, y’know? I should be happy for him.”
“Shhhh. Shhhh,” she says, and she rocks me.
Yip—feel like I’m fifteen again. Just before Johnny and I started dating. And I cried in my mother’s arms.
-58-
I decide to try and reach Nic. I need closure.
By some miracle, she picks up her phone. “Jesus, Nic. Jeezus. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks.”
“Cat, so nice to hear from you!”
“How’re you doing?”
“Oh, I’m great, babe. I’m great. Following my dreams, you know.”
Something’s wrong. She sounds way too bubbly.
“I got a modeling job,” she says. “And I’m gonna be playing a small part in a movie. I mean, it’s low budget but, yeah, it’s a start. It’s my dream, Cat. So, how’s things?”
A chirpy How’s things? “Uhm...” I clear my throat. “Uhm, fine, fine.” Do you realize you lost a fucking baby after shooting up heroin!?
“Oh, that’s great, Cat. Just great. Why don’t you come over to the West Coast sometime. It’s awesome down here. Lots of opportunity. And I’m getting more widely known, y’know. Climbing up the ladder, as they say.”
“Nic.” I shake my head, run my hand through my hair. “Nic, are you truly OK?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
“So, are you gonna...stay there?”
“Definitely.”
“Nic, what about...Johnny?”
Silence.
“Nic?”
“Cat, why can’t you be happy for me, damn it? I’m telling you all these good things and I just want you to be happy for me.”
“Happiness includes others, Nic. You hurt him.”
And then she snaps. Just like that. One instant to the next, and the facade is gone. “Oh, screw you, Cat! Always so goddamn high and mighty with Johnny Johnny Johnny. Take him, damn it. He’s yours, OK? You won!”
A tear bursts through my eye. “Nic, please.”
“You won, OK? I know you always wanted to win. Well, I could have kept him...if I wanted to, OK? Just remember that. Remember that, OK?”
Flashes of our early days fly past me, high school. Goddamned high school. Kids.
And what has changed?
Another tear breaks loose, a tear for the times she and I spent together on the road, smiling, drinking, partying, chatting up guys. The cowboy she kneed after he tried to squeeze me up...
“Look, Cat, I gotta go.”
“Nic, just tell me one thing. Was it all...a lie? You and me, our friendship—was it all a lie? Be honest with me, Nic. Please, be completely honest.”
I hear her sigh.
“Right,” I say. “Well, I’m glad you’re...happy down there, Nic.”
The phone trembles in my hand.
I hold on, hold on, just to hear it, just to hear her say it.
But she doesn’t.
“OK, Nic. OK. Uhm...fine. Fine. Have a good time.”
I pull the phone from my ear, look at the big red button. Move my thumb over it—
“Cat, wait! Wait!”
My thumb’s still hovering over the off-button.
“Cat! Please!”
I put the phone to my ear. “Nic?”
She’s sniffing.
“Nic?”
More sniffing.
Pause.
Silence.
And then: “It wasn’t a lie, OK? It wasn’t...a lie.”
But I can’t say anything else.
Because she clicks off.
I text her again the next day. No answer.
I call.
And the number’s been disconnected.
I find Nicole’s contact details on my phone.
It wasn’t a lie.
And I delete them.
~Johnny~
-59-
“Are you done with the fat chick now?”
“Thunder.”
“Well, are you?”
“We’re not together.”
Silence. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“Jesus, Johnny, are you gay?”
“So, wait, you want me to go for her?”
“Hell, she’s young, plump, willing, and you seem to like her.”
“I do like her.”
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“Then what the fuck are you holdi
ng out for? Do the chick.”
“I can’t.”
“Your pecker doesn’t work?”
“Pecker’s in good working order, and she gets me hard quite often.”
“So, what, you doing yourself now?”
“No.”
“I’m so goddamned confused.”
“Is Cat back home?”
“Yes.”
“Did she do this sports star?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
“Pride.”
“Ah, pride is what we’re calling it these days.”
“Self-preservation as well.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, did she?”
“Y’know what, Johnny? Does it really fucking matter? That you’re holding your cock back doesn’t mean she needs to as well. You guys are single. Until one of you makes a move, ain’t nobody cheating on nobody.”
“Right.” I clear my throat.
“So? Whatchoo gonna do?”
-60-
I’m on my way to Tikilicious to say goodbye to Vanessa but when I get there, she’s gone. I ask one of the bartenders if he’s seen her and he says she went off ‘with her boyfriend.’
“Boyfriend?”
“Yeah, big guy, looks like the Terminator.”
“Or The Hulk.”
“Yeah, sort of like that. Huge motherfucker.”
“Which way did they go?”
When he points in the direction, my stomach does a one-eighty degree turn.
The beach.
Behind some bushes, and a low building. Where she and I first ‘met.’
“Was he drunk?”
“Nope, but she was pretty plastered.”
“And you didn’t find that weird?”
“Vanessa’s always plastered. Hey, what’s the problem, bro?”
I run.
-61-
I hear her voice before I get there, pleading, begging. “Get off me, Vince. Get the fuck off me, I said No!”
“You bitch, you little fucking whore! I’m gonna fuck you. I’m gonna fuck you until you’re blue in the face and you’re gonna love it.”
“Get the fuck—”
Slap.
I turn the corner. I see him on her, his hand around her neck, his other hand fighting with his belt. “You goddamn slut. You’re gonna fucking love—”
Claiming Johnny: A New-Adult Novel Page 13
